Today is where your book begins

It's the middle of May and you know what that means: time to feel conflicted about leaving Boston for the summer!

Today I am in the best mood I've been in for a long, long time. I think the weather has a lot to do with it. Enduring more than a week of freezing, rainy weather in May is definitely a downer, and among other things, a particularly whiny line from that horrible Sheryl Crow/Kid Rock duet kept getting stuck in my head ("Haven't seen the sun in three damn days" -- here in Boston it was more like a week). Today I finally had a good hair day and busted out my spring wardrobe, and I looked fabulous, if I do say so myself.

When the weather is this nice, it's like nothing bothers me. I didn't mind that I had to get up early to drive to West Roxbury and administer our far transfer assessment protocol, a task I normally despise, detest and loathe. I didn't mind when I realized I was out of bread and had to drive to the supermarket on my way home. I didn't mind when it was, like, ADD Day at work and I wore out my Stern Voice on kids who were doing their best to get on my nerves. I didn't mind when I set off the smoke detector trying to make shrimp stir fry in my one remaining pot. And I didn't mind when I realized I had neglected to tape the last hour of the Amazing Race season finale, and anyone who knows me knows that missing one of my shows is ordinarily enough to make me fly into a rage.

Instead I ate chocolate and vanilla soft serve in a cone with rainbow sprinkles. I challenged a second-grader to a "cheese-off" when he dismissed my preference for Cheez Doodles over his Cheetos. I educated a fourth-grader and a seventh-grader about the rigors of running a marathon. And I drove through the Fells at dusk with the windows down, while the radio -- sometimes Mix 98.5 is good for something besides those dang "nutcrackers" -- fortuitously blasted possibly the two best songs that could fortuitously blast out of my radio on the drive home: "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" and "Unwritten."

I could have constructed a sweet summer here in Massachusetts, I think -- maybe an internship, maybe a class, definitely lots of hours at my exclamation-point job and research with my advisor, Friday evenings with my favorite Jews, more face time with the boy -- things I can say now that my furniture is up for sale on Craig's List and I've clocked the walk from my fall sublet to Davis Square in at under ten minutes. I don't think I'll regret spending the summer in New York (where I am contemplating taking a class or two! Self-defense? Ballet? Guitar? Writing? Hebrew?), but I do feel a healthy amount of regret -- as always -- that I can't be in two places at once. (My autobiography: Two Cities, One Heart.)

Tomorrow I'm headed into Boston to check in for the Avon Walk this weekend. If you're in the Boston area, here is a list of places where you might be apt to see walkers go by, and if for some reason you're inclined to find yourself in Malden on Saturday afternoon/evening, you should come visit me in the Wellness Village (aka the pit stop for this leg of the race, as Phil might call it). I'm a little nervous about

(a) the rain;
(b) not knowing anyone;
(c) sleeping outside in a tent, with a stranger; and
(d) walking 26 miles on Saturday and 13 miles on Sunday,

but I figure it'll be an adventure, and one that supports a worthy cause (there is still time to donate).

I'm full of shrimp right now, and contentment --