Dancing in the dark

It’s going to take some time for me to get used to the return of Standard Time, which happened a week ago. I’ve missed every hour of extra sunlight like Disneyphiles miss the Skyway between Tomorrowland and Fantasyland. Five o’clock was once a pleasant hour to hang out in; now it’s the first hour of darkness, which makes this meandering mouse scurry back into her (figurative!) hole. Except for occasional forays with Two Dogs and other loved ones, I stay indoors when it’s dark outside.

(What happened to the person who drove out to Ducks hockey games and Meetups and mall trips without thinking of it?)

I need to remember that in has its unique joys. In is the world of home-cooked meals from Two Dogs, usually with a glass of wine that costs less than one I would get at the bar. (As in a bottle of wine costing $22 at the restaurant and less than $7 at the grocery store. We pay a premium for out.) In is the world of reading on the couch or on the bed, drinking herbal tea with Splenda and nibbling on dark chocolate squares (sometimes with kosher salt sprinkled on them). In is the world of bubble baths, sometimes alone with a stack of magazines, sometimes with Two Dogs and a bottle of sparkling wine. Our modest little bathroom becomes a spiritually healing spa. In is where my shell renews itself, so it’s strong when it’s time to be out again.

Years ago, I used to dance in the world of in. I would twirl and jiggle to the sounds of Smash Mouth’s Astro Lounge and a soundtrack of James Bond movie themes and anything else my Emerson 5-CD changer was carrying. My Emerson is now tucked away in storage, and we don’t have much space for dancing (a situation which is changing bit by bit). Maybe dancing is a habit I should renew this fall and winter – it is but one way to give light to darkness.