I have this "friend" that I visit with on a weekly basis. He loves to chat in my ear and I find him horribly seductive, he has this knack of creeping inside my brain and saying just the right thing...which in turn gets me do the absolute wrong thing. He can coax me like no other, and the mere knowledge of his impending visit can work me into a frenzy. "I will resist him tonight" I tell myself. "He will see how stalwart I can be" becomes my chant, but even as the words loop around in my head I can feel myself softening. I busy myself with other tasks but find that my head swivels with each sound....wondering if that is him at my stoop.
I pour myself a glass of wine to "fire my inner feisty" assured that this glass will strip away the protective layers and reveal the me that is willing to put up a fight. "Now I'm ready" I tell myself but find that with each crunch of a crushed leaf under someones foot my heart races...not ready yet....maybe one more glass. As I reach the bottom of glass number two a sense of gooeyness takes over. My body is warm and relaxed, there is a quiet hum that is pouring from the inside out, I begin touching my hair a lot while singing my favorite songs aloud..."Shit, this is lovey Sam! Must kill it" and here comes pour number three.
Half way through glass number three and my thoughts shift to my jammies, (I am a jammies freak! I have more pairs than are reasonable and there is no end in sight...I love them like most women love shoes...I have two pairs of shoes and two drawers full of PJ's) my eyes feel tired, I am super mellow and longing to wash the day's yuck from my face, but before I do....one more sip. Returning to the couch freshly washed, moisturized and a touch parched from the vigorous face washing, I refresh with the last bit of glass number three.
With my mind shifting from relief to disappointment with regards to the non-visit I begin to think this is a good thing. No morning after feelings of guilt and yuckiness. My morning will be full of hope and promise. I will rise and take on the day with vigor leaping each challenge like OJ Simpson in those Hertz commercials, "Yes...hooray me" and just when I feel all empowered I hear, "Psst"....oh no!
My teeth dig into my bottom lip and I take a breath so deep my lungs feel like they might explode, "Not now...too weak" I think, but his warm breath swirls around my ears, "Dance with me Sam, don't you want to Tango with me tonight?" Can you say goner? As I let little bits of air excape I try to sound firm without letting him hear me almost gasping for air, "I...I shouldnt, I really cant. I have to work tomorrow, I should get to bed...you smell so good". Mellow, freshly washed, lovey, slightly tough, jammie clad, armour shed and so happy to hear his voice.
I am yours number four....lets dance.
Goodbye Franciacorta, goodbye Mr. Chips…
12 hours ago