Apparently, there was a big storm in Texas that decided to visit Arizona this week. It was beautifully cloudy yesterday, with all sorts of fantastic animal shapes in the sky. I drove through a drizzle or two, but when I pulled into the garage The Uv was still shiny after her Monday car wash.
The same cannot be said of her today. It's been a steady, light rain since I peeked out the blinds this morning, a little after 7am. Debating whether to go back to sleep or go to the gym, I shlumped out to the living room, looking for my spouse. Curled up in his cozy bathrobe on the couch, I heard him snoring gently to ESPN.
And then, I saw it. He'd left me the long end, the stretch-out-your-legs end, the end molded to a lovely indentation which perfectly conforms to the lower half of my body, the end he usually claims. I grabbed Joseph Finder's Guilty Minds, put TBG's feet in my lap, opened to my bookmark, and dove in.
250 pages later, he woke up.
We'd spent three hours on Douglas, listening to the raindrops, immersed in our own worlds while inhabiting the kind of shared intimacy that four decades of listening to him breathe creates. It was 10:30 in the morning. We'd not eaten nor showered nor brushed our teeth, and it was 10:30 in the morning.
This does not happen to us.
I don't know what made him move, but I had about 40 pages left to read so I sat there and finished the book. It was still raining and I'd lost the oomph to work out. Dr. K and Not-Kathy are coming over tonight to watch not-the-debates, so off to Costco for provisions I went.
In general, Tucsonans are wonderful human beings. But they do not know how to drive in the rain. Most of them probably moved here from someplace where that skill was a necessity, but it seems to have evaporated upon arrival in Arizona. They turn too quickly and are surprised by the water splashing everywhere. They can't figure out the windshield wipers so they go 100 miles an hour when the rain is barely trickling from the sky or they move every once in a while, stuck forever on the Interval setting. A red light offers a brief respite, but then the damn thing turns green and they have to move and oh my goodness it is wet and I don't know what to do..........
I stopped in the library, picked up a Linda Fairstein and two David Balducci's and came home to share my exciting life with you.
It's still raining. I'm going back to Douglas.