Its official, alaram clocks and I were never meant to be friends and mornings that are cold and grey only make this feeling worse. We fight constantly over whether or not I actually need to get up when it starts yelling at me from across the room… I tend to hit snooze and start the fight all over again 10 minutes later. I have even gone so far as to set multiple alarms in hopes that I will get so sick of the monotonous beeping that I will just get out of bed. And let me tell you, being in a timezone three hours behind, where I am buried in blankets when the alarm goes off, does nothing but perpetuate this situation.
Yesterday I awoke in a strange home, with a cat gently pawing at my hair, and the alarm ringing through my delirious haze. Groggily I arose out of bed and turned off the alarm convinced there was no way it was possibly time to start the day. I laid back in bed and then all of a sudden I was struck by a wave of terror that jolted me awake. I was in Michigan, being Michigan meant all day meetings with friends, photographers, and our contact at the gallery for our reception, all of that is exciting, busy, but great…the part of the day I was dreading was starting our week by meeting with a tax attorney at 8:30 am to talk finances (who in their right mind wants to talk finances, let alone at 8:30 a.m. its just not right)!
Walking outside I clutched my parka tight around me. The marbled grey sky hung heavy, straining under the weight of the rain it was threatening to let fall at any moment. The air felt sad, thick, damp, chilling to the core. No wonder Drew and I felt burdened by an unspeakable force pressing down on our spirits.
As the day filled with tasks, more things getting shoved into spaces where we didn’t have time to fit them, we finally began to break under the weight of it all. The grey began to consume us, settling in the the cracks that were forming out of frustration. It was too much too fast, we greatly underestimated the fight it would take to stay afloat in the tumultuous tides of this week.
The sky began to darken and so did our mood, where was the light? Where was the joy and hope we had felt in seeing all of the amazing people that we care so much about ?
Ultimately it came down to a choice. Drew and I sat in the chotch-mo-bile (aka the truck we are borrowing from my dad [we are so grateful for it, but just imagine the truck Luke drove in the OC and you will get a good visual]) and decided we could not allow the sinking blackness of the night drag us down with it. We decided to call friends, get some good wine, and have a night worth remembering, not a night we would wish to forget. This trip is meant to be filled with moments, why waste time feeling consumed by frustration over situations we have no controle over?
Drew went and spent the evening at The Market with his “wife” Caton (they have a friendship that transcends the laws of friendship, beautiful and messy, but the most wonderful and sacred thing known to man). They drank wine and talked over everything. Allowing each others anicdotes to lift them out of the seasonal funk that had settled in.
I went and spent time with my friend Mar (this girl is just the coolest, most amazing woman, who is starting a project you ALL need to check out). We spray painted pumpkins gold for the party on friday, chatted over life, love, and fashion, and drank a velvety bottle of red wine to cap the evening off with class.
Drew and Jill joined us for some late night treats and laughter that made our sides hurt.
The memory of grey melted into a warm haze of wine and christmas lights. We are lucky, thank God we got out of our own way to see it.