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Here I am, refreshed and renewed from nuptials and honeymooning, and up at 5 in the morning thanks to my deranged internal clock. The cat did not die, our apartment did not burn down, and there were not even any threatening emails in my inbox. But it is not my way to relax and be happy about this state of affairs, not when I can be formlessly anxious instead.
It is unfortunate that I am going directly from the bliss of two weeks of terrific fun directly into the arms of my dear old friend Intense Dread, but it was ever thus. Oh, the terror of the looming year. Oh, the perfectly simple tasks that seem utterly horrible and fearsome. Oh, etc. I wonder what it is like to be a well-adjusted person. I try to comfort myself with the thought that probably no scholar ever was a well-adjusted person, but then I contemplate the crappiness of my scholarship and the Dread snuggles up under my armpit with a vengeance, so that's not much help. Oh well.
Right now I wish I were a sunny soul who kept her little cottage neat as a pin, always had her finances in order, and woke up bright and early (as opposed to dark and early, which is what we have going here right now) and set to work. After several hours of absorbing study, I would wake as from a dream and wander to my (bright, sunny) kitchen and prepare myself a small pot of tea and a delicious sandwich. I would have only a small handful of foods in the house, but always fresh and perfect. After tea and sandwich, I would tidy up my papers and walk* to my office and take care of a few important affairs with charm and rapidity. I would prepare my materials for teaching the next day, collect my mail, and leave my desk tidy and no task hanging unpleasantly over me. On the way home I would stop at the Lovely Shop, where I would pick up a few items, but nothing that would go to waste later, and then return home. Dinner would be simple and delicious, and then an hour or two more of reading would fill the evening. Our bed would be so very clean, and the sheets so very fine, and I would look with pleasure upon the prospect of waking up the next day.
Actually, this fantasy is so much like what my life could easily be, if only I were a better person, that it is kind of depressing. Why not have clean sheets and no tasks hanging over my head? That is a mystery better saved for another day, I think.
Instead of contemplating that eternal question, I think it would be best to move briskly on to a different escapist fantasy. This one is a joint effort from me and S., worked up in detail during our trip. It works like so: I am the beloved pet of some extremely nice aliens who run a fantastic coffee shop. I am basically the shop cat, in human form. The aliens give me delicious coffee and food -- excellent pastries, for example, or a plate of homemade fresh pea ravioli with sage butter -- and books aplenty. They do sometimes have trouble figuring out just what I want ("Book, please?" "Oh look, it's hungry. Here, have some tagliatelle." "No, I... well, that is very nice... okay.") but that just adds to the charm, and eventually they get around to giving me everything I want. When I am grateful, they enjoy my happy-noises. There is a cat door, and I can go off to the library or play with my other pet-friends, or stay in and read. I have a soft bed by the espresso machine. I observed to S. that the strength of my response to this fantasy is indicative of my complete lack of ambition. Can you imagine what an actual go-getter would think if presented with this scenario? It would probably seem repulsive and obscene. How strange.
England was keen and decadent. Believe people when they tell you that London is expensive. Believe them also when they tell you it is great. In other non-news, vacationing is addictive. It seems entirely unfair that we do not get to go on forever waking up every morning and ambling off into the city together, while someone else changes our sheets and we have never a responsibility in the world. Horribly unjust.
The British have more flavors of crispy snack thing than I ever thought possible. I became slightly obsessed with the Walker's Sensations line of crisp, which includes such delights as Thai Sweet Chili (spelled "Chilli") potato chips and cracker-ish things in flavors like Malaysian Chutney or Lemongrass and Coconut. Though of course I have not tried them, the meat flavors were probably the most foreign and remarkable in concept. Roast chicken and thyme potato chips! Slow roasted lamb and mint! Chinese five-spice spare ribs! The world is a wonderful place.
*Please note that being able to walk to work is as much a fantasy as the rest of this.
Posted by redfox at August 25, 2003 06:31 AM (essays)all breads | breakfast | dinner reports | drink | eating out | essays | etcetera | lunch | news | recipes | salads | snacks | soups | sweets | tips | travel | vegetables | weekly meals |
