It's finally nice enough outside to sleep with the windows open most of the time, though the end result has been discovering that one of the birds roosting in a neighbor's tree sounds like a parrot with emphysema. There I am on Sunday, enjoying a weekend at last, just trying to sleep in, and this parrot is out there croaking its mating call, which I will never be able to think of as anything different than I'M A BIRD! I'M A BIRD! I'M A BIRD!
I'm not sure how it got to be mid-May. My birthday is in 12 days and my mother is actually exasperated with me because I haven't the faintest idea what I want. I also don't know what I'm doing that day or that weekend, and frankly I'm afraid I'm going to forget all about it, convinced that we're still living somewhere in April. A mythical, magical April where the opera season has ended and it's really nice outside. And there's pie.
Unfortunately, along with the bliss of ending the season comes the increasingly unbearable reality of Cristina's departure, a far-off fact I have up until now convinced myself was a half-imagined dream. My brain has been going LA LA LA LA LA LA for months now.
la! la!! LA!!! lalalalala I can't hear you
Unfortunately my brain had to shut down that soundtrack today. We had a yoga class today at the office that was simultaneously awesome and gut-wrenching; it's taught by a colleague and friend, who tailored our savasana and her words at the end of class to our impending goodbye. All four of us left in tears. Good tears, but also sad tears. And then I cried in the car later on. I think it's going to be this way for the rest of the week. If I cry in front of Cristina she's also going to lose it so I'll just tell her about being sad on my blog so we don't spend the rest of the week hopelessly sobbing. That would be a bad time.
Thanks, blog, for providing that service.
Otherwise: UNICORNS. Just so we end things on a happy note.