Everything seemed perfectly fine until I opened the refrigerator door.
I’ve just woken up and kissed my boyfriend on his sleepy lips before walking to the kitchen and preparing my French press coffee (the only way to brew a cup in my opinion). I feel like a swan, in the long dove-white, silk slip my mother sent me from a cool little vintage shop in Chicago (rather The Salvation Army). I still pretend not to know where my mother’s purchasing all these vintage finds she claims are from the 1800s. But it’s soft, and it flatters in all the right places and Jon likes it, most importantly. I even look like a swan with the way I’m standing with my arm propped on the counter forming a triangle with my elbow pointing out, face in my hand, and hip angled sharply to the side.
The sun glimmers through the glass doors leading out to the newly decorated patio and I have a moment, glancing at Jon sleeping so cuddly under the blankets, breathing the aroma of fresh morning coffee, and checking an email from my agent about a new audition that’s kind of a big deal — where I feel…calm? This is not the norm for me, and I’m hanging onto it.
I open the refrigerator and lose my mind when I don’t see any goat yogurt, Ezekiel bread or almond milk (my usual breakfast). Oops…I forgot to go grocery shopping — at Jon’s place that is. I’ve already gone grocery shopping for mine. And then everything I’ve been unknowingly bottling up slaps me in the face in an instant; it even makes a popping sound like when I open a can of coke. I’ve been going back and forth from my cutely decorated studio in Toluca Lake to my boyfriend’s place in West Hollywood all week long and have lost half my belongings I think. I’m always forgetting something. When I’m at my place I realize the shoes I need for my audition, the only ones that will work, are at Jon’s. When I’m at Jon’s place, I realize that my apron (which I need for work in thirty minutes) is at my apartment (and now have to show up unprepared and get written up again), and I’m starting to feel like an ant, running in circles, aimlessly and into walls.
I’m working on my book less because I’ve fallen in love. There. I said it. I’ve fallen in love. As fantastic as that is, it’s time to get more of my schedule back. I can be in love and stay in two apartments (breakfast items in both) and audition and work on my book and feel balanced, right? I mean, it’s got to be possible. People out there must be balancing.
Jon yawns and sees me crying in the kitchen. Like a Christmas present he unwraps himself from the covers, walks right over and holds me.
“Let’s make a list and get you everything that’ll make you comfortable here.”
I sniffle in the breast of his shirt and calm down almost instantly. Sometimes all I need is a hug…and some goat yogurt in both apartments.
Alice can be reached at AliceActress@yahoo.com.