In repose

Amid the strange and hectic lifestyle I possess I’ve taken time out the last few days just for myself.

Just around the corner is a wine bar I’ve been meaning to go to for months. It’s actually a high-end, niche wine shop that just so happens to sell wine by the glass as well. Just my cup of tea – glass of wine? – actually.

For whatever reason – time, financial, etc – I’ve not made it there all this time until Thursday. I wasn’t needed in the shop, but wanted to be available if I was. Rather than hanging around I slipped away for a quiet glass of wine – actually, two.

Me time is such a rare commodity in my life these days. I don’t have the literal space for it – no home to retire to, no bed to snuggle into with my private thoughts, nowhere – except perhaps the car – where I can just close the door and keep people out.

The next best thing to space is time, but that’s been in short supply too. I guess I’ve averaged 10 hour working days, 7 days a week, for the last 2 and a bit months. Me time has been snatched here and there, sitting down for a cooked breakfast – my only indulgence – or the odd latte. In terms of what I used to do and have, probably about 90% down on what it was.

You can’t really go on like that. You need time for yourself, and in the absence of any sanctuary you have to construct something in its stead. A wine bar – or any bar – is a natural fit for me because I’ve been to so many, and because I always feel at my ease in them.

That’s especially the case when it’s a quality joint. I walked in the other day, sat down on a comfy leather sofa, had a chat to the owner (and virtual sommelier), and in consultation with him picked my first wine of the night. Gee I felt comfortable.

I know this so well: the booze arrayed around me, the stately wine bar vibe, the knowing conversation with the guy who knows his stuff, and my own unwavering curiosity. And of course the feel of fine glass in my hand, and the richness of it in my mouth. I’m one of those unusual people perfectly happy to sit and drink by myself because I drink the experience.

I was there Thursday for about 45 minutes only and a couple of glasses, and last night for a quick (and expensive) Burgundy. I’m at repose, I thought. That’s the word that came to me: repose. It sounded good – that’s what I wanted. I sat back into the plush leather and sipped ruminatively on my wine and thought I could sit here all night. As my mind relaxed it turned playfully philosophical. I turned the wine in my hand, I looked about me, and listened in on the conversation on the table over from me.

Those sort of things recharge me. I go back to something I know, and am refreshed by it. I pause from all the stress and worry for a little bit – all of that, for a moment, is set aside. I am purely, selfishly me, H in blissful repose. God I needed it.

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