Midnight Rambler

In 14 minutes, it will be January 1st, 2012. A few hours ago, I made a plan to do one new thing each day, and write about it. A few hours later, that thought made me so tired I had to go lie down.

In between those two thoughts, I had a very full day, involving several bus rides, a long, impromptu but very informative tea ceremony during which I learned the exact difference between green tea, oolong tea, black tea and pu-erh tea, from a lovely gentleman who spoke very little English, a Chinese meal which I have unfortunately been regretting for the last eleven hours, a wander through several Asian Markets, a cup of ill-advised Ethiopian harrar during which I went from laughing to crying at the speed of light, and a run through a Seattle street to catch a bus home which left me not at all breathless but rather invigorated and proud of my recent return to running.

This day was supposed to end with a champagne toast at a lovely French restaurant in my neighborhood, the Bastille Cafe and Bar in Ballard, which I have recently discovered and am very excited about trying, as a replacement for my much-beloved Cafe Alsace and Babette's Cafe in Atlanta. Because of the Chinese meal, which was supposed to happen tomorrow but ended up happening today, my very adult and festive long-awaited trip to the Bastille did not happen. And that's okay. Because on the way to The Bastille, a funny thing happened...

I ended up watching the movie "Midnight in Paris", and falling in love with Hemingway, and writing, all over again. And I realized that the very thing I wanted to be doing at midnight was this. This. This putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, shoulder to the wheel. I work. I write. And therefore I am happy. I'm not really all that good at much else, not relationships, not family, not chit chat or patience or home design or poultry management. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, the angels sing, and I am good at this. When a good sentence happens, when I make a correct diagnosis and treatment goes well and a patient walks out of my office feeling better, it's my Midnight in Paris, my raison d'etre. Tonight I was reminded of that.

It is 12:01 am. I hear the fireworks outside. I hear Hemingway in my ear. Write one, good, true, honest sentence. Then write another one. Tear away all that is not truth. Invite the angels to whisper in your ear, and when they do, baby, believe me when I say, it's better than New Year's champagne.