It was a long work day. It’s over. A few words exchanged with my partner, a hot shower, and an early bedtime; I set the alarm* a little later and crashed, hoping to perhaps sleep in.

I crashed hard, and slept deeply. I woke abruptly to loud laughter following a louder thump against a wall. Drunk on a Wednesday? The folks at the trade conference going on at this hotel are partying hard. I wake startled, heart pounding, disoriented. I get up for s few minutes, make a cup of coffee (decaf), and drink some water. It’s an unimportant moment, but I’m awake for a time.

I sit with my thoughts, feeling relaxed and… I don’t know, a little like “my engine is idling” and that I’m “in neutral”. I’m here, but inattentive to everything but the stillness of the moment. I definitely miss my beloved Traveling Partner, but I am also relishing the luxury of solitude and quiet… for the hours I get to enjoy that, which is more or less the same small portion of any typical work day. Like a lot of Americans, I work “too much”, in spite of being aware of the value of leisure, rest, and contemplation. The infamously exploitative American work culture demands a lot. I’m grateful to have a good job, though,, make no mistake. Swapping unreplaceable years of my finite mortal lifespan for cash is a shitty return on that investment of my time (could be worse), but I have adequately proven to myself that I am not likely to make a similarly good living painting full time. America may value “the grind”, but it does not value artists, regardless of the amount of work they put into their art.

Meh. I let that go and enjoy the quiet I’ve got, sip my coffee (decaf), and wait for sleepiness to catch up to me again.

I spend time meditating. I reflect on the day. I stretch, and do some yoga. I open the curtains of the darkened room, and look out the window onto the street below. No view, really, just a sidestreet and some dumpsters on the other side. I people watch awhile. I notice a new “floater” in my right eye. Annoyingly it seems inclined to sit smack in the center of my field of vision, bobbing about and drifting with my eye movements. I hope it goes away, or becomes so commonplace my brain begins to filter it out of my view. The clock ticks on.

I’m sleepy again. Perhaps I will dream of love? I smile contentedly feeling relaxed and unbothered. A good day. Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again.

*I failed to complete the process of setting an alarm somehow, or turned it off later. There would be no alarm in the morning. 😆