Friday, July 07, 2006
Rooftop Solitude: Uh Oh, That Means She's Thinking...
It's a perfect Friday evening. There's a light breeze off the lake. It's not even strong enough to tussle my hair into my face. From the rooftop of my building the city is quiet and peaceful. I hear birds, the hum of the air conditioners, and the constant overhead drone of planes to and from O'Hare. But even that is a low crescendo and diminuendo, almost a soothing ellipse that leads you into another thought. That plane is leaving Chicago...This one is arriving...I look around at the other rooftop decks. First, I'm amazed at how few there really are. Second, I'm disappointed that there are only two, no, four - just four other people outside enjoying this calm, peaceful, perfect summer night.
That thought didn't last long. I mean, come on Theresa, of course there are only five of you. You're in Chicago and it's FRIDAY NIGHT.
I still work part time at a restaurant (because it gets me out of the house and frankly, I'm not independently wealthy yet), so it's rare that I have a Friday evening free. Earlier, I ran some errands and as I passed by people eating dinner on patios and walking to parties and bars, I thought "I should be doing that." I thought about calling a friend who lives around the corner and extending a dinner invitation. I thought about calling Hainesville to see if he wanted to drive down here or vice versa, because landscaping business plus summer plus long distance = take what you can get. Essentially, I felt like I had to be doing something, and if I weren't there must be something wrong with me. A Friday night off feels akin to a field day to a 3rd grader and I should be Out There, for heaven's sake!
Being the annoyingly obsessive introspective psychoanalytical person that I am, I had to figure out why I was feeling so out-of-sync. And because I'm an annoyingly obsessive introspective psychoanalytical person, that didn't take too long:
Even though I'm around people at the restaurant and have a great social circle, there are times when I get lonely. Earlier this evening was one of those times. I'm at the computer all day, every day. I occasionally have fears that I'll turn into a cat lady. On days when I've talked more to Nina (my cat) than a human being I'm prone to being overly social in the cosmetics aisle at Walgreens or spending way too much time talking to my ex on MySpace. Today had the potential to be one of those days.
Then I went up to the deck. My original intentions were to 1) get out of the apartment so I didn't bore Nina, and 2) to finalize some details for a new feature I'm adding to the site. (Yes, I know that's redundant, which is why I feel the need to get out more.)
If I ever had any doubt I was a city girl it was taken care of tonight. I'm one of those people who see the skyline and all the activity it implies and sighs, calmly, "I'm home." In retrospect it doesn't surprise me that I saw the Hancock Building, the Sears Tower, glimpses of the lake and Belmont Harbor, and relaxed. I no longer felt the need to do something. I knew it was OK to just enjoy a calm, quiet evening. There are 8 million people around me, and I'm sure plenty of them are doing enough to make up for my chosen night of solitude and serenity.
There is always, and I do mean always, something to do in Chicago. If you're bored, it's because you're either not paying attention, or you choose to be. Sometimes, and this is almost blasphemy coming from my fingers, it's OK to choose to be bored.
Then again, there is this band playing at the Metro tonight...
