“The Bourbon King was first ambassador of reason and human happiness.”
—Heinrich Mann
Weekend before last was moving day, which was preceded by a week of completely-stressed-out-because-I-don’t-know-where-we’re-moving days, and a crazy busy prepare-for-moving day, and followed by recover-from-moving day and then a week of unpacking-and-cleaning days. Exhausting but satisfying.
So that’s where that week went.
Then last weekend was Mother’s Day which is difficult for a variety of reasons. Two reasons, to be exact:
I miss my mom, and
Adulting is hard in ways I never could have predicted.
Sometimes Reason #2 is worse than usual and makes Reason #1 more excruciating than usual, and that’s how it was this year. What can you do but muddle through it, which is what I did, and the fridge is covered with sweet handmade cards from the kiddos and we had a relaxing day together and I took the longest hot bath with a chilled bourbon on hand (highly recommend) and all the windows now have curtains. Nothing is all bad, and Mother’s Day had a lot of good in it. I’d say the good outweighed the bad by, well, a lot, if we’re going by volume. But emotions are like flavors, and some flavors are stronger than others. A tiny amount of a strong flavor can overpower or at least change the experience of everything surrounding it, every other flavor.
I don’t know what melatonin has to do with any of this except it starts with an M and sometimes when you can’t sleep because you’re not handling stress well or because you’re sad, or both, it’s helpful. Not has helpful as bourbon. But it’s good to have hard limits on hard liquor, at least for me, so: melatonin.
Anyway now that we’re moved and unpacked and the curtains are hung and I’m doing yoga again, I’m sleeping better. Our apartment is on the second floor and there are Bradford Pear trees growing right next to us, curling up close to the brick, and from the inside looking out it feels like we’re in a nest, and the world is green and peaceful, swaying slightly, and even the sad notes are part of a lullaby and what we don’t understand is just part of a dream.
I don’t have anything much to say except everything I just said, and if you want to send me a housewarming gift make it bourbon, because I’ve got plenty of melatonin.
🔗 Here are the 15 best bourbons in the world, according to somebody. I just read some articles about melatonin and learned that it is referred to as ‘the hormone of darkness’ which I find wonderful. “Time for bed! I’m going to take my hormone of darkness now.” Here’s a song about crying. Seems appropriate.