My knee hurts. I think I overstretched two nights ago. Ellie was on the blanket in front of me. Kate was packing her suitcase. This is what free time looks like as a new parent. At least for me. Multitask watching the baby—make faces to keep her entertained, adjust her blanket, watch for falls, sit her back up, retrieve the empty peanut butter jar when it rolls away, again and again. This is free time. Instead of just sitting on the chair watching, I stood up and stretched. Not ideal yoga conditions. Quiet, alone, dark, music. But never mind ideal. Ideal is a thing for textbooks. My right knee feels like I shouldn’t have done so much tree pose. Not vinyasa tree pose with the sole of the foot against the leg, but hot yoga bikram tree pose. It’s hard to explain but look it up if you’re interested, it involves rotation of the knee, which my knee is upset about. Very upset. And now I’m hobbling like an old man who just got a hip replacement.
The sun is rising in front of me. My desk faces east. I see it through the trees. The birds are wild. A crow. Feral cats are lazy. The neighbors have trash in their yard. The city should say something. The sun is rising in front of me. It will be a good day.
Last night at 730 I took the dog for a walk and we walked by a college house party, not a huge one, but there were 10 or 15 cars parked all in a row, and when somebody opened the front door there was noise and red solo cups and I wanted to go inside and see what was happening, what was so interesting in there, but not in my real body, I wanted to go anonymously like a fly on the wall, or a drone.
This morning when I walked the dog again, talking the same loop around the neighborhood, most, but not all of the cars were still there and I thought, I’m glad I went to bed at 828 instead of drinking and partying because I’m up with the chirp chirping birds and the orange sun and this is sleeping in because normally the sun is still sleeping when the dog and I walk around.
Last night was Friday night and Kate left with EllieRoo to visit friends in Chicago and I was planning to have a beer, because on Wednesday when I looked in the refrigerator to have my one alotted mid week beer Kate said really you’re going to have a beer now, you’re not going to wait until this weekend, when you have a long weekend alone? And I was like no I’m going to have a beer now, because that’s my sobriety program: one beer midweek and one beer on the weekend and it’s a successful program for me, so I’d like not to tinker with it, but because she planted the seed I didn’t have the beer then and instead I said I would save it for this weekend, but when I opened the frig last night there was just the same Corona and Guinness that have been sitting there for the past nine months or ten months or I don’t know how long and there was the bottle of Aldi wine on top of the washer machine but if I opened it, I’d likely feel compelled to drink he whole thing, not in one sitting, but a little each night because that’s how I am, both a former alcoholic and stingy guy who won’t waste a three dollar bottle of wine from Aldi. So instead of having beer I only half wanted, or wine I’d likely over drink, I just boiled water and settled for bedtime tea and a buckwheat pancake loaded with Irish butter.
>>>>NOTA BENE. Dear illustrious reader. Actually I don’t know what illustrious means. I wanted a word that is flattering to y’all. Something to inspire you to get pumped up about this daily truth telling project. To get you hyped on the idea of no hype and all organic headspace, no filler. Wheeewwwwww. Sometimes I need to breathe, I think we all do, and just say what we mean. Which is this: If you dig the project, please keep it going by becoming a supporter. Check out patreon.com/altdaddiary. Which is where you can sign up and make a one time commitment to support the daily diary in a monthly dollar amount of your choosing. Super easy, super fast, super helpful for me. On both morale and financial dimensions. That’s all. The sun is still rising. It’s going to be a good day.