Going off...

Yesterday morning, well after my alarm clock failure and first coffee spill on a white sweater... just after the announcement of the latest chapter of the Hundert broo-ha-ha, and just before my second coffee spill on said white sweater... I started to feel the overwhelming need to get out of Cleveland.

I discovered a cheap airfare to Portland, ME, and decided to visit my friend Q. With cursor on the "book" button, a placed a cell phone call to Q, and IMed to my boss. And so I'm off to Maine tomorrow for a few days.

For many years after college, Q and I lived in the same city. There was something comforting about having her near, being able to just show up on her doorstep in tears after a bad date or a bad day.

Being a grownup really sucks in some ways. There's so much busy-ness that I have to schedule dates with my husband. Or maybe the world has just changed. I hear my peers, parents of young children, discussing playdates. I don't remember a lot of playdates. Oh, maybe with cousins who didn't live closeby or friends who had moved. But regular play could be found by running down the street, knocking on a door and asking if so-and-so could come out to play.

Maybe I just miss that spontenaity. In the day to day, there's this predictable, precarious balance of routine obligations, daily stresses, the things I do to unwind--unwind a bit--just enough to maintain equilibrium. In the week to week, there are the shrink sessions, recovery from the shrink sessions, the workdays, the Saturdays partially lost to catching up on sleep. At least in the last month, there's been no shocking news of sick parents. Perhaps that's why I've embraced this wobbly routine.

I feel sort of bad about leaving my hub this weekend. I think he needs a break too. But he'll have spring break in a few weeks. This summer we'll have a vacation together. And maybe this weekend away is just what I need to get into a smoother groove.