192 Hours Before Returning to Work, Ranked from Worst to Best
She protec, she attac, but most importantly she wants her vacation back.
Inspired by @jonnysun’s “Your last 15 minutes before the end of the world, ranked from worst to best”
15. Friday, 9:50 AM
Checking your email.
14. Sunday, 8:30 PM
Standing alone at the downtown bus stop lamenting that public transit back from SFO to your apartment takes almost as long as the flight from PDX to SFO.
13. Friday, 4 PM
Nearly getting hit by a car while trying to chase down your baseball cap. It has zero sentimental value because you got it at a tech-y career fair after realizing you would never make it as a coder, but it’s still a damn good hat that the wind off Hood River is all too delighted to spirit away from you.
12. Sunday, 3:15 PM
The cashier at the PDX corner market tells you the airport Blue Star Donuts location is under construction. Your mind flashes back to all the chances you had to try a famous Portland donut over the course of this trip that you passed up because you thought you’d have one final opportunity here. You’ve been trying to fight the scarcity mindset, but this incident is setting you back. This is why you should always eat dessert first. You want to shake past-you by the shoulders and curse her for believing in delayed gratification. Current-you would definitely not pass the marshmallow test. The universe is finite and nothing is guaranteed.
11. Thursday, 3:33 PM
Realizing you read your middle school friend’s text completely wrong and you will not, in fact, be able to meet up with her.
10. Saturday, 11:45 AM
Struggling to understand the palm reader in Portland. You don’t catch her forecast about your career, but you hear her perfectly clearly when she grips your hand tighter and says, not every love story has to be a struggle, sometimes you can just give in. At first you feel guilty, then annoyed. The last guy you went out with said, you seem really good at compartmentalizing. The trick with poets is they’re better at wanting than being wanted.
9. Saturday, 10:40 AM
The man at the stall shows you how to put the puzzle ring back together. With each revolution of the silver latticework, he spins a tale about how the different bands represent different people, two journeys coming together as one. You know that you’ve been smooth-talked into making a purchase, but you don’t have it in you to resist. The difference between a con and a magic trick is agreeing to let yourself walk away happy. Did he sell you the ring or the story? Does it matter?
8. Tuesday, 2:43 PM
Your shoulder is still peeling from a sunburn you got weeks ago at a commencement ceremony that wasn’t yours. The blueberries you picked are slightly dried out from the sun, but when you rub your thumb over them they get a wet gloss.
7. Wednesday, 8:15 PM
Singing One Direction’s “Steal Your Girl” during karaoke when it is still fresh and new to J and C, before they spend the rest of the week playing it over (and over and over).
6. Saturday, 12:15 AM
Beating Luna the Shadow Dust on Steam.
5. Thursday, 10:15 PM
Entering the tiny house in Portland for the first time. Climbing the ladder to the loft and looking down at the trundle bed. Imagining a backyard of your own, what you would do with the space.
4. Tuesday, 8:10 PM
C’s dad telling you your Vietnamese accent is good.
3. Friday, 6:30 PM
Sage and zucchini on a pan. Two cats on the porch. The first gulp of lemonade.
2. Sunday, 1 AM
Laughing at how C steals all the blankets and teasing her for being ectothermic like a reptile. Grumbling at how she and J don’t tuck in the covers but accepting that you’re outnumbered. Refusing to let them eat on the bed, then still finding crumbs on the mattress. Sleeping next to them anyways.
1. an indeterminate amount of time
C says, I think we say your name the most. J doesn’t know any facts about Nirvana but she knows you want an autumn wedding and which song you’ll play for the first dance. All three of you enjoy visiting fancy houses and contorting yourselves into embarrassing positions to take too many pictures of each other that will never live anywhere aside from your phones. None of you can drive well so you take the Amtrak down from Seattle and bless the sun for setting so late on the west coast. What’s the word for content but hungry for more. What’s the word for next year, let’s do New England. What’s the word for in two weeks you’ll make this into a metaphor but for now it’s just you and your friends and the land, singing, let a good thing be a good thing.
I love this! "Let a good thing be a good thing"