Harry Potter and the Delayed Gratification

Like any good Harry Potter Nerd, I pre-ordered Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. It arrived yesterday, but I didn't start it, because in this season of my life, sleep is one of my most valuable commodities, and I knew that starting the book would be antithetical to getting a full night's rest.  I was feeling a bit grumpy about it, but I comforted myself with the thought that I'd have plenty of time to read it next week while we're in Alabama.

But then Boozeday was cancelled today, and I found myself at loose ends.  You see, Nathan and I trade off bedtime-routine nights, and Tuesdays are one of his nights, since I'm (obviously) usually at Boozeday.  Now, you might be thinking, "Oh perfect!  She could just curl up with the book at home!" but you would be wrong, Gentle Readers, because it is a truth universally acknowledged that if I do not physically remove myself on my "off" nights, I don't actually get them "off".  I end up doing chores, and generally most of the bedtime routine, just because I'm there and I can't help myself.  So I have to absent myself from the scene.

Only trouble is, I didn't know where to go.  I didn't want to go to a cafe or a bar, because I didn't want to spend any money.  And I didn't really want to go to the library, because it feels weird to bring in an outside book to the library.  And anyway I needed to remove my toenail polish because I am going to a wedding next week and planning on wearing open-toed shoes.

I could go into the office and be assured of quiet privacy, but that would be just... pathetic.

I was literally in the car, pulling out of our neighborhood, not knowing where I was going, when I resigned myself to being pathetic.

Yes, I was so desperate to be not in the house that I was going to go sit in the place I'd already sat in for near on nine hours.

But then, on the way to the office, I had a sudden brilliant brain-flash.

I could go to the park!

And I did.  I did go to the park, Gentle Readers.  I went to the park, and I settled down in a nice shady spot, and I removed my polish while devouring the new Harry Potter story, and it was glorious.  I moved with the sun, keeping in the shade, until it started to get cold, and then I kept to the sun.  I read and I read and I read, and I finished it, and came away feeling so damn relaxed and refreshed (and satisfied with the story, by the by) that I feel ready to deal with the rest of this insane week.

(Possibly the best part was being surrounded by laughing, playing children, and knowing I wasn't responsible for a damn one of them.)

So now I know where to go when I need to escape.  Not a bar.  Not a cafe.  The park.  Dear stars, the park.