playing pretend

Today is going to be a better day.

That was the last thing I told myself before I fell asleep last night. As soon as I woke up and realized I hadn't died in my sleep I knew I was off to a good start.

I dropped the kid (errrr, man) off at school and went to The Park. The Park that I have been going to since I was young enough that my Mom was the one taking me there. The Park where I learned to swim and played on the jungle gym and most importantly, swung.

With my just rolled out of bed cotton candy hair I pretended that I looked more like a little girl than a scary middle aged woman in her exercise clothes. I put in my ear buds attached to my first generation I-Pod shuffle, yep, old school. No display. Just a wonderful surprise with each song as I crunched through the leaves. Nevermind how old school some of those songs are.

I walked and sipped my Caramel Macchiato. I pretended it was a better drink than all of the 10 cent kool-aid I drank in this park. I pretended like I could run really fast, if I wanted to, and I don't have a twinge in my ankle and a pinch in my neck which means I probably need to go to the chiropractor. I made an effort and smiled and said good morning to the other park walkers. Maybe they are lonely and could use a friendly greeting. Maybe they, too, are trying really hard to have a better day. I even said good morning to the lady who had on a Christmas sweater. She definitely needed a better day, but her Christmas sweater just made it easier for me to pretend it's fall.

I pretended it really was fall. I pretended that it was the cold that was making the leaves crispy and brown, and not because it's been so hot that they are probably just sun-scorched. It made me happy the morning was cold enough that I could zip up my hoody, even though by the end of my walk I was quite toasty. I left it zipped though. I didn't want to stop pretending.

I stopped off at the swings. I always stop off at the swings. I swing until the velocity makes me remember that I'm a grown up and my body doesn't like to swing as much as my mind does.

Then I walked to my car. Worry starts to cloud The Park for me. What if my purse was stolen out of my car while I walked? What if I have to get a new driver's license made? I really like my picture, and while my cotton candy hair is just fine for playing in the park, I don't want to memorialize it. I'm trying to find an excuse for today today to not be good. The purse is still there. I'm awake and alive and walked at The Park and had my coffee. It's going to be a good day.

Maybe I'll pretend I have something to say and write a little bit too.

That's good.

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