Blessing the Balm of Hurt Minds

Happy Friday! A little Scottish Play for your weekends!

I had a Ladies Who Lunch day yesterday--I took a friend's wife out to the Georgia Aquarium for the day and then lunch. I've mentioned this wonderful place before, but I have to say that I'd never experienced the place in its full glory. And by "full glory" I mean filled with school children. The fins-to-grubby little hand ratio was about 2-1. and there are a lot of tiny fins in that place. And it echoes. All that glass echoes. I found solace with my buddies the belugas (aka the smiling, swimming penises) and by standing in front of the pirhana tank and fantasizing about tossing one particular kid in there with them.

After dragging ourselves to lunch at a blissfully silent little Euro cafe on Peachtree Street and cramming ourselves with salad so we could rationalize a slice of overpriced cake, we went back home. I dropped her off and then promptly pulled a MegaNapTM. This involves closing my front door and walking toward my bedroom, dropping articles of clothing along the way so that I am nekkid when I get to the bed. I then do a face plant in the pillow and snooze in a position that can best be described as "woman who fell from sky." I slept for two hours.

I woke up, confused, and saw that I had just enough time to down some water, throw on some stretchy clothes, and hit my abs class and then yoga. Fabulous! Nothing like a little bendation to clear the mind and polish the halo! Hooray!

Got home, watched CSI with the sound off while chatting with an old friend about why she needs to change schools, ate some olives and some cheese and had a glass of wine and then went back to bed. I slept for 11 hours.

Waking up this morning, my first thought was for Peter Parker. So this is what it felt like, I thought! You go to bed after a rough visit to the museum/aquarium, come home and just hit the hay. Wake up, and . . . superpowers! I feel taller and stronger and smarter and more competent than I have in days. I've been desperately trying to sleep for almost a week--since my vacation, really--but nothing has helped, including l'il blue, that friend to us all. But something about fishies followed by cake tapped into whatever helps us knit up the raveled sleeve of care.

Macbeth knew from sleep.