I'd just about forgotten what an afternoon of errands felt like. These were regular, unremarkable errands, such as visiting the Sherwin-Williams store to settle on paint for the study, negiotiating the Wal-Mart parking lot in order to get wild bird seed and dog food, settling in for a consultation with our tax preparer. While there was nothing out of the ordinary in these or any of our other stops today, what was out of the ordinary is this: we were not in a hurry. The only set time for anything was to turn over the tax figures.
I'd forgotten what it felt like not to be racing against the clock, hurrying, always hurrying.