Despite my minor complaints about dating and my even more minor complaints about my own artistic limitations, it’s been a good few days. The sun has been out. The weather has been warm, if not hot. On Sunday, I went to the farmers’ market for the first time in months. Going to the farmers’ market is one of those things that I had scaled back on in favor of saving a few bucks. The market out here in late September is amazing. Everything is ripe – berries, peaches, plums, corn, tomatoes. I bought a fresh baguette and tomatoes for a simple lunch along with some strawberries and peaches and celery and onion (soffrito/mirepoix for the bolognese I cooked on Sunday night).
Today, I went for a morning run. Dawn was breaking and the rising sun lit up the city skyline. I’m not usually out of the apartment that early in the morning. It was a pleasant change of pace – and perhaps a necessary one now that my schedule is changing.
I’ve also splurged and bought a few things that make life a little more pleasant: wireless earbuds that don’t get tangled or have their sound cut out, a new electric razor that’s quieter and shaves better (I hope), new sheets, new socks, slightly better coffee, fancy cheese to go with my baguette. It’s not that I’ve lived a terribly sparse life – far from it, but with employment, there is a slight unclenching.
In the spirit of small luxuries, I thought about inviting a friend over for dinner when I made the bolognese. I didn’t because something about the experience felt more intimate than where our friendship stands. I found myself saying, I want to have dinner with someone who’s going to make the salad – and maybe a vinaigrette from scratch. Which felt telling in how I wish to approach relationships. I want someone who will add to the meal – not cook it for me or have me cook it for them, but participate in it. Someone who will pour the wine as I slice the bread. I’m not looking for someone who will do the dishes because I cooked, but who will dry as I wash, or vice-versa.
All of these things (sunshine, running, fresh produce, slow meals, new sheets) have felt like small moments of clarity – small steps towards where and how I’d like to be in the world.