When we were living in Chicago, I frequently traveled during the week, flying home late on every Friday afternoon.
I was typically exhausted, both from the travel itself as well as the long workweek in another city. But as soon as I got home, my energy would come back and my wife and I would go out for the evening.
After my flight one cold and snowy Friday, we went out to our favorite Mexican place for bottomless chips and salsa, massive beef and cheese and veggie burritos, and a beer or three.
Afterwards, we decided to see Dangerous Liaisons which had just come out in theaters. I'm not much for movies set in the past, much less those that mostly involve the characters in frilly clothes engaged in bouts of emoting. I like action flicks, science fiction, scary movies. But I played along, taking my seat in the theater.
My seat. Large, old-school, comfortable, with that time-worn deep red corduroy velour cover and the ample wooden arm rests. My coat. Big, fluffy, dark green, enveloping me with a gigantic happy warm hug. The theater. Historic, dark, warm, quiet, safe.
The movie begins. The warmth, the belly full of food, the beers, the darkness, the hygge of it all. My neck falls back, my eyelids dip, I fight sleep once, twice, a third time; I succumb to its pleasure. Periodically I drift back into consciousness, ruffles and wigs and emotions flicker from the screen, entering my subconscious, mingling with my dreams.
Best nap ever.
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