At Long Grain in Camden for lunch I enjoyed rice cakes with chives in some kind of sweet sauce and a rather filling bowl of crabmeat fried rice (topped with a "free range egg")--way more than I usually consume at that time of day. As soon as I got back to the office I felt in desperate need of a siesta. Instead, I plowed on through to finish up all that I'd wanted to get done this work week, but uncharacteristically left the office right at 5:00.
I was supposed to go for a run tonight, but wasn't really looking forward to it because I was still feeling so sleepy, a state not helped by this muggy weather. My own tired body conspired to save me from my run, however because as I was walking out to my car, I slipped on the gravel and fell hard, banging up my knee. No big deal, but sore enough that I didn't want to run on it right away and aggravate the swelling. Instead, I grabbed a magazine and an ice pack and lounged in the back yard for an hour. A hummingbird buzzed overhead, paused on branch. Maybe she was tired, too. A crow flapped desultorily past. Crickets chirred dreamily. I might have fallen asleep on the spot if my husband hadn't arrived home. There's something that seems so indulgent, so langourous, about letting yourself just give in to sleepiness when it's not "bedtime." Like letting your mind go on vacation.
Crickets' lullaby,
all birds silent in this heat:
let all thoughts go. Sleep.
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