Those were the days.

The past few weeks I have been daydreaming, every now and then it would pop into my head, of drinking a $4 chai latte at B&N and looking through knitting books or magazines or something. Something at a leisurely pace and without rushing because they will be closing. The chair must be comfy or I must not be near people, seats away.

As I was just walking downstairs to get a bowl of fresh honeydew melon, YUM, I had a tiny epiphany. I must get out of the house to keep the bats out of my belfry, so to speak. Then I came back up, sat in my chair and spun around a few times eating pieces of melon. Then I stopped and thought about posting.

My honeydew was half ripe with some good spots and some GREAT spots of sweetness. I was reminded of my single days in my apartment driving to the only store that consistently had the freshest, ripest honeydew. The warm nights and returning to my lit apartment that was clean and perfect. Opening a bottle of chardonnay and having a little feast. I would watch a movie and get ridiculously silly-drunk on the wine.

I also enjoyed this ritual at my last apartment in Greenville, that I was allergic to and way more crammed in. I, again, would return to a lit window and a cat peeking out at me. I would drink some wine, go outside. There was a stillness at that busy apartment that just settled my soul. Sitting on my stoop, staring at cars. Listening to the distant traffic and the neighbors returning home. As usual, I would return inside and watch a movie I rented.

The difference now is that I don't have the wine, the car or money. I am barely social. I can't go outside and sit on the porch without disturbing someone and there are more bugs here than in the Greenville.