For St. Valentine’s Day, and every other day of the week
Years ago when I was fumbling through my way through working in computers. Our department traveled to sites across the country to perform computer installation and repair. When traveling most of our coworkers liked to eat at big restaurant chains, I gather the familiarity brought them comfort. Being 19, all this traveling was exciting (even if it was paired with 16 hour work days). But one of my coworkers liked to find out of the way restaurants unique to the location, and this quickly made him my favorite guy to travel alongside. While somewhere out East (Maryland possibly?) we stopped in at some corner bar and grill and were offered to try a steamed burger. Steamed burgers? Oh yes, and it was ridiculously good. Incredibly juicy, but at all not greasy.
The steamed burger was great but more than anything I remember something my coworker told me. I was just out of high school and he was probably in his forties. The meal had extra excitement for me because I wasn’t yet accustomed to sitting at a bar. I mentioned something about a date planned for Saturday night with a girl I’d recently met. He grinned, finished the bite he was working on and replied, “Never marry someone based on Saturday nights alone. Because, if you do, you’re always hoping for Saturday night, and there are 6 other days in the week where you’ll have to live with that person.”
Like I said, I was 19 at the time. Marriage? What’s this crazy old guy talking about!?
But every time I began dating someone new, after a few dates, it would cross my mind. We’d be dancing at someone else’s wedding, or I’d be walking away to get her another drink, or during the concert I’d think, “Is this just a Saturday night thing? Will I even want to know this person during daylight in the middle of the week?”
My coworker was, of course, talking about all the things that fill a person’s week. The schedule and habits which become your life. Realistically you’ll spend more time doing laundry, or cooking, or driving in the car, grocery shopping, or reading books or magazines next to one another than sipping champagne while the music plays. Then, if some day you have children, you’ll wistfully remember those times when you were able to spend time doing the laundry together, or grocery shopping, or reading books… 😆
We recently spent a night at the Pfister, and we’re composing a photoblog I’ll be posting soon. While visiting I recalled a poem during a brief moment in our room. We were getting ready to go out for dinner and in the mirror’s reflection I happened to notice where the bars of soap sat along the marble walls of the shower. I grinned at the poem while brushing my teeth. A type of love poem regarding the seemingly inconsequential things we do for or with one another so that our lives make smooth sense. Dinner already prepared. Snow already shoveled. Clothes ironed, kids dressed. The other 6 days of the week which make us want to spend Saturday night with that same person. Happy Valentine’s Day folks.
more than flowers
plastic wire dish
from the shower head
of the tub
because I know
that is where
you would want it