A while ago, I wrote about liking it rough, and I haven’t changed. But I do diversify. Lately, I’ve needed things to be gentler. The news of the world burns like acid in my gut, the Florida days are hot, dark and wet, and my not-so-friend, the D is drifting too near, too often.
So I’m taking it gentle with me, keeping my world a little smaller and my walls a little closer and my surfaces a little fluffier. Call it an emotional blanket fort.Or even a blanket nest, à la Robot Hugs.
My home remedy:
Naps. There are no words for how I love you, naps.
Hugs from my husband. My husband is a world-class hugger. It is the first thing about him I fell in love with. One hug, and I was home. I can get these free, whenever I want (not to brag).
Cuddles from my small boy. Also giggles. Also smiles. Also silliness. Also, the chance to be his hero in whatever way I can which usually involves finding things I should make him find himself or giving him treats he doesn’t really need. I don’t care, you should see his eyes.
Scheduled chats with my cherished friend, John, who always makes me feel loved.
Regular (near constant!) words with my living, loving, brilliant, hilarious diary/therapist Angela. Seriously, though. You need to come home.
Music. Yes, I’m obsessed, and NO, I’m not sorry. (New album, Positive Songs for Negative People is out in just three days!)
The Next Storm and Glorious You are perfect for my blanket fort.
Old, and not-that-old movies. I just watched French Kiss, and had gentle, if slightly impure thoughts about Kevin Kline. I will drop everything if An Affair to Remember is on. But for real, downy, fleecy movie gentle, I always watch Harvey. Elwood P. Dowd has it figured out, and come on — Jimmy Stewart. Look at that face.
Hugs to all you all out there – unless that makes you uneasy, then I’ll just invite you to my blanket fort to eat cereal and watch movies.