i came home from work through all this faux snow. it was too cold to think about anything i might have had planned or said i would do or wanted to do. and when i walked through the front door it all came flooding back to me when i saw her coat and some cheap toys and coloring books laying all over the couch. right, i have things i said i would do. i can't just go upstairs and lounge on my bed, lie back and stare at the ceiling fantasizing about some alternative sunny lifestyle. i'm not even tired and i've got places to be, killer birthday parties for 6-year old kids to go to. i had momentarily forgotten that a kid's birthday party would be pretty dynamite, especially when there was ice cream cake to be had - possibly even snacks.
so i go upstairs and change into something a little more respectable for the audience. i put on my red hat and my new brown sneakers and long black jeans, a nice shirt to compliment the not-so-nice brown cardigan; the one with all the pilled up sweater balls on the underside of the sleeve and the missing third and fourth buttons. and i think, great, i am so ready for this. i don't have to think about anything but cake. so i go downstairs, sit down and wait for my ride to leave.
as we're going there, i get this sudden rush of feeling lucky and put my hands on madeline's shoulders from the back seat. just to touch this other being was enough to confirm that i was really still fucking there. oh god, okay i'm thinking about everything else again. all at once i'm starting to feel it. this pulse, this nervousness, all this pressure. and in the end i'll start to feel too tired to finish the thought and go the fuck home and go to bed.