The Sunday evening is waning in concert with its sunshine, and I'm left in my usual slightly incomprehensible mood. The walk home is short and the scenery distraction enough that I needn't really trouble myself with figuring out any thoughts -- or having much of them at all, really -- and once I get home, the perfect distraction is a quirky Jane Austen love story encapsulated in a two-hour movie.
The two hours end and I'm left with the warm fuzzy feeling for which I'd hoped. Time in the real world keeps on going, though; it's now 9pm and I haven't had any real sort of dinner. Orchestral music and proper English conversation are still in my head from the movie; while these are lovely, they're something of a fantasy world, and I need something to bring me back to the routine.
Pandora is the best bet, I figure. I fire it up to see what my eclectic little indie rock/dance station can throw at me, then walk barefoot to the kitchen. As I make a sandwich, I get lucky. Whatever song has started playing first is the perfect movie soundtrack song for my life at the moment. The words don't matter because the mood is right. And I can take a moment of the bittersweet, and I can smile, and I sit down with the window wide open to the cool night air and eat and drink water.
And I can make jokes, and say "I miss you" with a smile, because missing someone means you know it felt good to be with them, and I can reach out because I'm lucky enough to have good friends. And then I can dance in my chair because the next song is that good.
And I'm on my way -- not without looking back, but with living it all.