Sunday, December 18, 2011

a perfect day

What would be your ideal day, he asked her.

What do you mean?

You know, your idea of a good day, he said. You can do anything. You don’t have work. You can have fun.

I can do anything I want? she asked.

Well, within reason. Not like a crazy vacation or saving kids in Africa or winning the lotto.

Give me some parameters so I know what I’m working with, she said.

Ok, you’re in this city. It’s a normal day. An ordinary day in which you do things that make you happy.

And no work?

No work, he said.

Oh. Hmm. So, like a Saturday.

Yes, if you want. Your perfect Saturday. You wake up. What do you do?

Hmmm. I wake up refreshed. It’s somewhat early, early enough to get things done but not too early. I drink coffee and read the paper at a leisurely pace. I work out. Wait, no – I go hiking and have brunch with friends.

Ok, he said.

And I read and just enjoy myself. Hang out with friends. Maybe do some writing. I have a productive but fun day. Everything feels right with the world. Hey, did I say something wrong?


What’s wrong? she asked.


Tell me.

It’s nothing.

So then you can tell me, she said.

He said something unintelligible.

Ok, fine, don’t tell me, then, she said. She waited two minutes. So what would be your ideal day? she asked.

My ideal day?

Yeah, your perfect day. Nothing too crazy. Same boundaries. Go.

Ok. Probably start off similarly. But then my favorite day would be one spent with you.

Oh! Wait. That is definitely how I would spend my ideal day, too.

Copycat, he said. It’s too late to change your mind.

But I didn’t know I had that option!

Too bad.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I feel like such a jerk.

It’s ok, he said.

Of course I’d want to spend my day with you, she said.

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