"Arrives in one to four weeks," the website said about the mattress set that I was purchasing. One to four weeks can't be that long, I thought to myself. Except that it is, as I am now finding out, one week later and still sleeping on an airbed. (I've been spoiled by two-day Amazon Prime shipping.) Nevertheless, I'm better at waiting now that I am older. Which is funny, because now that it's apparent that I, at almost-38, do not in fact have all the time in the world, I have all the time in the world. I can wait -- for the mattress to arrive, for my kids to grow up, for my life to begin again.
When I am enjoying my lunch, there is work. When I am working, there are the pets. When I am traveling, there is the house. These moments wait for me to inhabit them. Thanks to the yoga, the meds, and my various self-help books that teach me how to act like a French woman, I feel like I am the lead actor in my very own reality show, a celebrity in every scene. Today at Wildflour, in between meetings, I sipped my cocktail (it was 6 o' clock somewhere), and I thought, "What is a star like me doing in a place that does not serve a decent cheese platter to go with this drink?" It was tragic. But through the glass I saw April coming and I rose to meet her and I became A Girl In Love.