My Wonder Walk

I woke up today lying next to my sister. Story of my life.

I was ready to face the day at 8:00 am but snuggled under my beloved down comforter until 9:00 am, knowing that she is a late riser. Yeah, sleeping until 9:00 am on the weekend is late in my pink-n-brown universe.

We went for brunch with a friend of my sister’s and, instead of going somewhere that has the best oat bran muffin in town, we went to a European bakery & café where I succeeded in paying nearly $20 for coffee and an omelet (egg whites cost extra). No matter how grand (and mine isn’t) your financial situation, that’s a mornin’ no no.

My plans for later in the day were cancelled and, with the Superbowl an imposing reality on the planet, I felt bored for the first time in a long time. Post-thievery-brunch, my sister opted to nap while I emptied the dish washer and then developed cabin (studio) fever.

She left (after my proclamation that she was “delaying my life”) to get her nails done and go shopping (how are we related?). I opted to do my new favorite thing – WALK.

I chose to leave my iPod (and the song mixes I’m so tired of) at home and just walk with the confusing thoughts swirling in my head. The sound of my early 20s made alert company for my trek down Connecticut Ave., toward Georgetown, past The Kennedy Center and to the National Mall.

I went to see Abe (Lincoln that is). I ascended the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, passing attractive European tourists (likely 17 year old boys) on my way. I looked at Abe and thought, “Maybe he knows what I should do next.”

Next being a new zip code, grad school, volunteer program – something to solve my desire to wrap my utterly fantastic DC experience in a nice memory bow and try something new.

I’ve got oats in my kitchen cabinet and in my adventure-seeking heart – both need to be cooked.

I hoped for the same feeling I relish when I go to the movies solo and feel like the actors are performing just for me (am I selfish or what?). I wanted to believe that Abe, sitting in his gigantic chair, would raise one of his finely carved fingers hanging over the edge of the arm rest in the spirit of “Aha! I have the answer to your self-imposed deluge of wonder.”

And then I’d think I was really honing my silent communication skills because Abe detected my question – What should I do with my immediate life? – as if I had whispered it into his ear.

His fingers (not a one) didn’t move, and I didn’t sense that we were alone. We were surrounded by cameras and fanny packs (when will they face extinction?) and people who couldn’t read the Gettysburg Address without moving their lips and uttering every fourth word.

I turned back to the Reflecting Pool and started jogging along Independence Ave. (metaphor?) toward the Washington Monument. I continued jogging and walking until I reached Whole Foods (14th and P St.) and met the dumbest decision of my day – grocery shopping before the Superbowl started.

I ate my evidence-of-inflation fruit cup while standing in the long checkout line. Then I felt like a schmuck for not having my reusable grocery bag with me (the Flour-themed one) and asking for plastic, when the chalkboard outside said plastic bags are going away (for good!) and Whole Foods is only using up the remaining bags in stock. Ok, so I’m helping to mitigate a problem.

I walked the three miles home to my petite abode and talked to the person who makes me believe life is unfair.

Who? My grandpa, Poppa Jerry.

Why? Because my grandpa is also my soul mate. Go solve that one.

12 miles traveled.

No more answers then I had at the start of mile 1.

Still bitter about unrequited amore.