10.10.2002

 
I needed to leave. Had an appointment, somewhere to be, something to do. Not one of those moments where the appointment is a teeth cleaning with the dentist where just about anything would suffice to convince me to delay leaving just a little bit longer. No, the appointment had some draw - I had made it earlier that day and reworked the day around it. So I needed to leave. I knew that. But lying on my back watching a little movie in my head (pictures of red dresses and jeans with cotton strings running off them blending together with flannel pajama pants sitting on an uneven waistline) seemed so much better at the moment. Comfortable. Good. Saturday morning, and while I knew I had somewhere to be eventually, that would not be for another two hours, leaving me to lay in bed and count the dots on the ceiling. That type of comfortable.

You need to go, the little voice in my head said to me. It smiled and the light caught that corner of its make-believe eye and caused the aquamarine to glimmer for just a second. Turn off that movie in your head, it said. You're indecent. You shouldn't be thinking about red dresses and pajamas. You have a world to save. You have lives to influence. You have a blog to write.

It's true, it's true. If only I were more responsible, if that voice in the back of my head didn't tell me to be more responsible even as it narrates the sequence of images.

Put on your coat, it said. Trying to get rid of me? I shot back. Keeping you responsible, it snickered. But being irresponsible is so much more enjoyable sometimes, I thought. That's why you have me, it whispered in my ear. I thought you wanted me to be responsible. I'm puzzled, I noted. Don't be nervous, it's fine and wonderful, it said. I'm not nervous. Just a lot surprised and a lot pleased, I thought.

You need to leave, it said. So I did.