The lenses of my sunglasses make my skin look tanner than the winter-pale it really is. Winter-pale with sallow undertones. Singularly unappealing until enough sun has been soaked up. Today, I got a start on that.

The pool is still just a little chillier than I’d like, but with the warm sun, the balmy breeze, and the dogs basking on the hot cement deck, I stil had fun splashing around. I used a couple of floats to simulate the same motions as on the machines at Curves, and it felt good to be doing those motions in water. Calming.

I stayed in til I was pruned, and my lips were beginning to turn blue. I hadn’t worn a bathing suit, just a tank top and clean underwear, because finding the bathing suit wasn’t worth the effort. Fuzzy came, grinned at my see-through-when-wet attire, and wrapped a fluffy sun-warmed towel around me.

(It’s my own pool. No one can see into it unless they’re sitting on their roof or standing on a ladder at the fence.)

I sat down, still wrapped in towels, to answer an email message, and do some online bill-paying (I LOVE that feature), testing my arms to see if they felt hot. I tend to forget to wear sunscreen. They didn’t. They don’t. I got lucky. The smell of sunshine mixed with a hint of chlorine was all around me, though, and I was getting cold.

I padded into the bathroom to shower, noting that there were faint strapmarks, at least. A hothothot shower never feels better than when you’re really cold and a bit damp, from weather or from swimming. I stayed too long under the spray, but I was still finished, dressed, before Fuzzy even began his own shower. It’s Saturday, and we were lazy today…I made an omelette earlier, but otherwise we’ve accomplished nothing.

We’re going out to find dinner, and to buy a DVD I really want. I’m excited. I have the taste of grilled chicken on my brain, and really want some tonight. Or a grilled hamburger. Summer foods. Summer Saturday.

Even if it is only May 1st.

Tra-la! It’s May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when everyone goes
Blissfully astray.

I’m lusting today too. Not for a person (Fuzzy, you know I adore you, that’s NOT what I meant), but for change. And more money. And a more stable job. Less commission, more salary. And finally, at the age of 33-for-a-couple-months-longer I know that I do, in fact, want to be an underwriter, and having a goal is good.

Tra-la! It’s here!
That shocking time of year –
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear.

My wicked thoughts are only partly centered on the man still asleep in the bedroom. I bought a flat of strawberries from the guy who stands on the corner and sells them (he had mangoes, too, but I have no use for a flat of mangoes). And last night, despite the fact that strawberry seeds make my lips itch, I had a small orgy of fruit-eating. They were so sweet and succulent, that they brought to mind fleeting images of all the amazing things you COULD do with them (I mean recipes. No, really…)

It’s May! It’s May!
That gorgeous holiday
When ev’ry maiden
Prays that her lad
Will be a cad…

Actually I’ll take Fuzzy just as he is, thanks, but he is being extra sweet lately, as if he knows I’m more stressed than I’m telling, or just possibly, as if he’s clinging to me because I’m in a “lets make eight gazillion major life changes” mood. There’s a reason opposites attract. I’m a kite, blowing back and forth in the winds of change, and he’s the string, anchoring me firmly to earth, and not letting me fly too far. My poor, patient, stoic husband…change doesn’t go down easily with him.

It’s mad! It’s gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev’ryone takes,
Ev’ryone breaks.
Ev’ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!

Broken vows. Is it breaking a vow to seek to leave a company that gives you tons of flexibility even though you maybe aren’t earning enough? It’s a hard trade off. I mean, I like leaving at three, but I can feel the company failing, and it makes me edgy and unfocussed. I’m not sure if this makes sense, but if the company was an entity, a living being, this one would be having internal bleeding. I could highlight everything wrong with it, but not here.

And then, what about the vow to myself? To grow, to advance, to not stagnate. Aren’t the personal vows one makes at LEAST as important as the vows made to external parties?

Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?
Whence this perfume floating ev’rywhere?
Don’t you know it’s that dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la! That dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la!

Sometimes I wonder if I’m cursed never to feel content, stable, or entirely happy with what I have. I’ve inherited some kind of itchy foot, and it’s harder and harder to control it.

Poor Fuzzy. He’s so patient.

He must be terrified.

Note: Song lyrics are from “The Lusty Month of May” from the musical Camelot. Complete lyrics can be found here.