I am back in the little town I called my own until 5 years ago, when Mr Stapler lured me away.
He and I are just visiting for the weekend, a quick trip to see his folks, who are vacationing here. It's the kind of town you vacation in.
Yesterday morning I went to Farmer's Market and saw old friends and stood around and talked and laughed in the warm November sun, surrounded by piles of squashes and apples and fresh-baked whole-grain breads.
Then I went to my favorite cafe and had coffee and a waffle with the owner, one of the most charming people in the world. And other old friends and others wandered in and out and said hello or talked for a while...
Sigh. I remember that life. It seemed so warm and fun and simple, everyone I liked doing kind of the same thing on the same schedule. I didn't have to plan a social life, because life itself was social.
I made half the money I did now but I only lived 3 minutes from work, so it felt like my days were long and leisurely. I volunteered at the Performing Arts Center, so I got to see fabulous shows ALL THE TIME.
I know I idealize it. I lived in a rental house with 2 roommates, an insane landlady, and 30 year old carpets. I worked at a job that was as much tedium as creativity, for far less pay than I deserved.
And now I have a new life, and it isn't a bad life. Mr Stapler, seeing my folks every day, being able to have my own house where I can have a big yard for Goldie, a job that pays well (even though I still wank about not getting paid enough), fun freelance work...
Yet I can feel that strong pull by the past, even as I march into the future. Does that ever happen to you?
A couple of new things up over at Linkateria.