I’m back at my coffee shop perch, the place I often go for some time alone. I’ve been away for a few weeks due to various festive events. While I’ve loved seeing friends, I definitely miss my introvert recharge time.
I miss my boys, though. I had a meeting tonight, and despite planning for some “Christy time” after the meeting, I was tempted to race home to my family. I wanted to snuggle my boys before bedtime and then settle down to watch an old Star Trek rerun with the husband.
I came here, though, knowing I will ultimately be a better mom and wife when I take care of my self inwardly and outwardly.
It’s a perfect Tennessee summer night, one of those evenings that is glorious with a breeze and almost insufferable without it. I’m sitting outside to soak up the odd combination of city and country as the hipster chatter mingles with the sounds of frogs and crickets. A storm is threatening in the distance, but I hope it will give me a few more minutes of peace.
I feel some ownership of my little space at the bistro table, enough that I was tempted to berate the biker with the unnecessarily loud engine revving and the smoker sharing his fumes with all of us. Both offending parties quickly left without any urging from me, leaving me triumphant in my place; yes, I won, despite taking no action nor having any real claim.
This is me, you see. The place where I can be a mommy and a wife but also just me with no labels. The place where I can think of myself as a writer or free myself to be no one.
And now, chased inside by the storm, I will bid you adieu.
