I went to bed with the intention of getting to the gym around 8:30 to spin, solely because I am terrible at spinning and hate it and therefore it is good for me. But when I awoke to a gray sky, I snoozed an extra 30 minutes and came down with no intention to change out of my pajamas before noon. I still had a stack of papers to work on, and I was down to have the Today show on in the background, and to finish my coffee and oatmeal before even looking at them.
I tiptoed down the stairs and wrapped myself in a fleecy blanket on the couch. The windows were open, and the damp coolness that seeped in was in stark contrast to the sweaty, oppressive heat we’ve been having. But my entertainment was not what I had suspected. The tragedy in Aurora dominated the news. I watched for about an hour and a half, hearing the same people interviewed, watching the faces of reporters and survivors, devoid of emotion, quiet with shock. I tried to imagine what I would do if anyone I loved were in the theater until the pinching at the backs of my eyes told me to change the channel.
I finished all of my summer work while watching chick flicks. I baked peanut butter cookies. I decided to stay home, to neglect exercise, and sauteed some kale and the end of a can of garbanzo beans for lunch. I packed. It was a quiet day, a day to reflect, spent exactly the way rain makes me want to spend a day, and since we haven’t had any in almost a month, it was just what I needed.