January 2nd. The day after New Year's Day. A national, federal holiday for most - meaning a day off of work. But not for those in the private sector. Not for most lawyers I would guess. Certainly, not a day off for me. A lowest, of the low, bottom of the totem pole, nobody-special, young, struggling esquire trying to make my way (or more importantly just make rent), residing in my beloved DC.
We cuddled in bed. Our gorgeous, fluffy, cloud-like comforter, dark blue blanket, soft white sheet encapsulating dreamy marshmallow likeness of a
bed. His arms wrapped around mine. His breath warm on the back of my neck.
"Okay, just five more minutes," I said insistent this time. "I have to go to work."
"Don't go in," he said. "We can have a buddy day." "A buddy day? What's a buddy day," I asked. "Well..." he said, (coming up with a response on the fly), it's a day where best buddies do buddy things." "Is that so? And what do buddies do exactly?" I curiously questioned. "Buddies do things like make sandwiches. And watch TV. And make each other happy." Aha. Genius. A buddy day. Why didn't I think of that?
"I can't. I just can't. You know that. I have to go in. But I wish I could." (And I really wished I could.)
I got up and reluctantly got dressed, brushed my teeth and packed my purse. I searched for my work keys, first in panic that they weren't where they usually hid but was relieved to find them hiding behind a large green candle on the dining room table, that was only brought out for the holiday party we'd held the week before.
I went back into the bedroom and kissed him several times, though he was still half-asleep. "Have a good day," he told me. "Get some rest," I said. I closed the front door to our apartment as softly as I could, even though he wasn't entirely asleep, so as not to disturb him. Then I stepped out into a perfectly quiet, city morning. The air was very chilly. But fresh. The sun beamed down from the sky, full and bright.
Call me crazy, but I like working on holidays. Making the brisk walk to the metro without any traffic to dodge. A few people out walking or jogging, but only a handful of the crowds that are usually emerging from their houses in the early am hours. You can hear the breeze. You can hear the silence. It doesn't happen around here often. It's hard to describe. It feels peaceful. And full. A big space filled with quiet happiness.
The train was equally empty. As were the streets when I emerged out of the subway once again. Only a few of my coworkers had beat me in. It was nice to see them. To exchange new year pleasantries. To know that most of the building was empty. That I could plod along with my work - Relaxed. Easy. Without distraction. Without the tension of the masses emitting from floors above and below. I like working on days like this.
And my mind keeps drifting to the man back at home. To the new year. To what I have and don't have. I don't love my job. I don't have job security. I don't have a lot of money. And yet, I live with and love my best friend. My best buddy. And we make sandwiches together, and watch TV together, and take walks together and make each other happy. And that is everything.
I don't know what 2012 will bring. But I'm excited. And I'm content.