"Do you have to go to yoga? Maybe you would rather do something different with me. And the dogs."To which I replied:
"Maybe get some takeout and have a picnic somewhere different. Just hang out. I know yoga is only an hour but by the time we are done with dinner there's only 1 1/2 hours before we go to bed."
"During which we usually watch something or read."
"Too much of the same."
"Life is flying by!"
"Okay. We can have a picnic."
I mean, who am I to choose yoga over my partner's latest existential crisis? Besides, he was right. I have a well-documented habit of over-scheduling myself and leaving little time for relaxation and romance. I love yoga, but missing one class wouldn't kill me. In fact, it might make me stronger. So, instead of dashing from work to a workout, I rode my scooter home, packed up the dogs, a blanket, and some beers, and piled into the car with Nathan, who drove us first to the burrito place in town that also makes halfway decent Greek food (Texas is weird.). (Also, we were doing something different, so we had to eat something other than sushi, our usual dining out option.) We ordered two falafel sandwiches and enough hummus to paint a house, then made our way to the park and enjoyed out dinner in the grass while the pups looked on hopefully. (Don't worry - they were not left disappointed.)
Nathan and I have been having a bit of a rough time lately. I hate to complain, because we both have good jobs, a great set of friends, supportive families, healthy dogs, and strong bodies that do just about everything we ask of them. We are damn lucky, and we know it. But we're also restless. We have big dreams and we're ready to begin pursuing them in earnest. But... we're in Nacogdoches, and we'll be here until next summer (assuming I get into the perfect MFA program, which will eagerly shower me with tuition waivers and stipends). Yes, there are things we can do to prepare for our exodus, opportunities we can still take advantage of, adventures that are still here to have, and we've been preparing, taking advantage, and adventuring, and truly, life is not terrible. Not even close!
I recognize that this year is a transitional one. Nathan just finished his degree and got his first real job. I switched jobs and am applying to school. We're figuring out where we want to live next, plotting and planning our course of action and waiting for the time when we can spring into motion. And that time is coming, but sometimes I wish that time was now. Falafel in the park can only fix so much.