divine angst

The restaurant across the street from my fifth-floor hotel room plays music loud enough to sing along to as I sit here in bed. I realize it’s Saturday night, but people do sleep sometimes—hopefully I’ll be one of them soon—and the not-as-tired part of me wants to stalk downstairs and take on the manager. But my room’s AC kicks on and covers the noise and I hope it stays on long enough for me to drop off to Dreamland.

It’s been a long day, full of heat and sticky sea breezes; long ceremonies and no small amount of discussions bordering on acrimonious. I watch a daughter get annoyed by the mere fact of her father’s disagreement with her and my shoulders tighten. The only thing that relaxes me is recognizing that I can go home whenever I want. Adulthood is a great privilege.

Oh, and if you were wondering where I was most of yesterday, I was suffering. First I was dealing with a “migraine”; then I dealt with four hours of driving in a car—through Texas!—WITHOUT EFFING AIR CONDITIONING.

Oh my god, I have never wanted to be somewhere else more.

Posting light this weekend, due to obligations implied by the aforementioned four-hour drive.

Even at events with people you think you have little in common with, you can discover common ground.

Without going into detail most of you won’t appreciate, I’ll say this: people will surprise you with their open-mindedness. That is a Good Thing, always.

I didn’t think I’d be so cheerful tonight, but I am.