My boyfriend walks into our cozy cabin (we're in the woods for thanksgiving, a treat from him :) and it's been an interesting stay so far.) Anyway, I digress. He walks into the tiny cabin with a cup of coffee for me and goes "I'm seeing this place differently now." I ask why, and the sum total of his spiel is that he fears this place isn't entirely what it seems. You know, people are nice, but something's off...?
In the current atmosphere (well, the word current may be an odd choice of words, but lets go with it) one finds oneself questioning everything, and seeing everything (what's actually there and what isn't) differently. Rational fear successfully, in many cases, gives way to the "irrational" and I can't say I'm in the clear on that.
We had thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant (a break for me from tradition) and as we walk into the restaurant, I notice something. The space is clearly divided into two groups (based on a caste system maybe?) On one end, near the beautiful fireplace and not far from the wonderful pianist, are the older, more conservative, "clearly" comfortable people (I put that word in quotes cause y'all know how it is: not all that shimmers is gold ;)) and on the other end are the folks like us (my man and I.) Not exactly interracial, just young, some scraggly, some with family members who have some behavioral issues, etc, etc. So, we walk in and there are clearly two free tables by the fireplace, we have a reservation we paid a deposit for and the owner has us wait while a table is prepared for us in this second part of the room. It was a descent dinner, the wait staff was amazing and we had a lovely time. But, I couldn't get that image or what I perceived I saw out of my head, and when I shared my thoughts with my guy when we wake up the following day, I of course ruin his beautiful morning... Why am I sharing this?
I'm sitting here struggling with writer's block or maybe it really is because the damn internet isn't working and the cabin doesn't have a three prong plug at the kitchen (the only room with a tall enough table to work on that's jammed into the tiniest of spaces for what reason I don't know) seriously, I'm struggling. I want to do something creative and my heart is set on writing, not in word, but on my screenwriting software which works over the internet. I'm struggling! So when he concludes his spiel (which I at this moment agree with though I know it's only because I'm feeling off) with "I think my mind is playing tricks on me" guess what pops into my head (HEADS UP, R-RATING):
You see, nothing about what I perceived may have remotely been the case. Those folks who got the fireplace tables probably called ahead and requested them. Now I'm having conversations with my man in a flawed attempt to repair the beautiful mood I ruined and it ain't happening. He said somethings that hurt, but I don't blame him for it.
Eventually, we get past the morning, and by afternoon we find our mojo, we find our space in this beautiful place that we've come to love visiting whenever we can, and the day ends well (I think :))
What's the lesson here? You decide. For now, yeah, man - my mind is playing tricks on me.