Giddy about the Afternoon

When I was younger, my summer days were defined by one thing: the pool.  We lived at the pool.  Snacks, lunches, birthday parties, naps, all took place at the pool.  Sometimes we would even stay for dinner, and sometimes, we would even take our bedtime showers there.  My memories are so vivid and so clear of how much time I spent at the different community pools.  

I loved it.  All I can remember from those days are hours of swimming, eating, and waiting out the dreaded adult swim.  Is that all we did? 

As much as I loved and lived for the pool days, I loved coming home.  Coming home after the pool made me feel so alive.  I remember riding home, anticipating my alone time in my room.  Awe.  Let me sit and think of the possibilities of things that I could do: They were always very romantic and dreamy things that I could do that I never really did: I could read, I could draw a picture, I could write a letter, I could make things.  But, I never did those things.  I usually just sat in my room and day dreamed and watched some TV.

Now, here I am, 30 years old (pre-apology because I plan on using that phrase a lot) and I'm doing the same thing-different version.  After an hour or two at the pool, some time at the park, a shift at the Gap, or other diversions, I return home.  To my space.  Burl takes a nap.  And I am unoccupied.  In my space that I've been away from all day long.  

I find myself free to, again, think of the possibilities.  The only difference is that now I have the courage to do what I only dreamed about as a kid.  I write letters.  I read.  I make a fun drink.  I make things.  I blog (never dreamed that one up as a kid).  I nap.  And I rarely watch TV.  And it feels so good.

Afternoons.  They make me giddy.