There's just something about a sunny day that fills me with joy and optimism. Even when the temperature is below freezing, as it was this afternoon when I awoke with a splitting headache, the flood of UVB radiation through my apartment's windows warms my soul every bit as much as my skin. All of the negative aspects of existence that my good friend Bourbon had been bringing up the night before are easily lost sight of amid the synthesis of vitamin D and the blessed aroma of coffee. I don't blame Bourbon for showing me the downside of life. It isn't his fault that he is able to see through all of the bullshit and get to the central truth of all matters. It is in his nature. He is a harsh drink with harsh insights. And harsh drinks make for harsh friends.
But all of his negativity is forgotten on this morning. The sky is blue and The Fifth Dimension's "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In" is playing on my phone. This immediately makes me miss my children. The youngest two love to dance to this song. Maybe Emmy will always want to dance with me, but I know Towbin will outgrow it one day. A pang amidst the sunshine. I send a quick text message to their mother to see how they are doing. I learn that Emerson still says she doesn't feel well. She has been especially out of sorts recently. Nothing I can do from 90 miles away. But no matter! I have Phoebus at my side and caffeine in my cup. All concerns seem petty. In the end, everything will be right.
As I finish laying a few slices of bacon on the skillet, my phone rings. Once upon a time, children, phones didn't let you know who you would be talking to before you answered. Back then, there was only one way to find out. But in this modern age I instantly know that it is Kris who is calling. Kris and I often discuss current events, political & legal theories, what movies we've recently watched for the thousandth time, and even what is going on in our personal lives such as work and school. We talk, we laugh, we vent, and (most often) we mock, denigrate, and nearly pity all who are not us.
After hanging up with Kris and rinsing off my breakfast plate in the sink, I begin to get ready for work. It occurs to me that I haven't practiced my Russian lesson today. It's lesson 5: Countries and Languages. I must learn to say Питер и Марта из Берлина (Peter and Martha are from Berlin) for some reason. Perhaps this is a phrase that is handy to have ready when walking about Red Square. How embarrassing it would be to be queried by some curious Muscovite about the residence of those two Germans and then show myself to be a typical ignorant American by having no response at the ready. I vow then to complete my lesson at some point during the work night.
I put on my Carhartt, my knit cap, and my mirrored aviators. I am armored against both the icy wind and the blinding rays of the Earth's most salient benefactor. Once in the car, I turn up the stereo and begin driving to my destination. The fact that I was recently issued a citation for speeding doesn't detour me from driving like a free person. My brother gave me Oh, Inverted World for Christmas. It's a beautiful day and "New Slang" is a beautiful song. I feel like nothing will be wrong ever again.
