I would have bet money that the temperature had dropped about twenty degrees since noontime. Okay, maybe not. I’m not the betting type, and twenty degrees is probably somewhat of hyperbole. Either way, it was a bit chilly as I stepped out of my car and onto the sidewalk. The chilliness was exacerbated by the sweaty-ness of my sports bra, still quite wet from the evening’s workout. A lovely spring breeze cut straight through me as I approached Reed’s Lake, my destination. [Mental note, it was not quite warm enough to venture out into the night air wearing wet clothing. Not quite. Not yet.] I momentarily debated returning to my car to remove the wet bra, as I would undoubtedly be warmer in just my fleece jacket. The idea was quickly self-vetoed due to the high level of foot traffic currently strolling past my car. Oh well. Wet clothing or not, I was determined. I had a lot on my mind and I wanted sit and think. On a bench next to Reed’s Lake. With gluten free cookies.
The cookies were important. Post-workout, pre-dinner, late in the evening, a girl planning on thinking needs to eat. Cookies. Of the relatively healthy and low cal version, but still, cookies. Complete with vegan chocolate chips. Key.
So I sat on the park bench. I pulled my legs to my chest to block the wind from my now frozen bra. I ate my gluten free cookies. I stared at the ducks. I watched a kayak-er. I looked at the house lights glowing from across the water. I wondered where the moon was hiding. I played with my thoughts, turning them every which way. I built bridges with ideas and whole cities with scenarios. I tried to remember how to listen to God.
A bit later, I stood, lightly dusted in careless cookie crumbs and chilled to the bone. I’d had about as much thinking as I could take.
And so I suppose the title of this post is somewhat deceiving. I don’t really have a decision to share with you. I just wanted to write. Because that’s another way I like to think, in addition to the obvious method of sitting next to a lake in a cold and sweaty bra. So, dear readers, welcome to a small part of my thinking process. Sorry I don’t have any cookies left to share.
Always – Alissa Jean
