The joys of ice cream

Age 49: Day 5

Tonight was a good night simply because the friend I had dinner with (a preternaturally slender friend) suggested we go out for ice cream afterward. I had a cup of moose tracks at Emack and Bolio's, which reminds  me of my Harvard Square days. Would anyone be shocked to hear that I have ice cream almost every day of my life? (I justify this by telling myself that at least I am having reasonable amounts rather than scarfing it down straight from the carton, like in my adolescent days). My slender friend had an ice cream sundae, with hot fudge, whipped cream and chocolate cookie crumble, which she ate with gusto, and which I got to taste liberally.

Whether I am 49 or 99, ice cream will always make me happy. As will climbing between cool, soft sheets with a book. Right now I am reading Gone, Girl, the summer thriller du jour. I'm not usually one for thrillers; I don't need to read for suspense; I have enough suspense in my body and mind naturally keeping me more keyed up than I want to be. So far, I am finding Gone, Girl a tad annoying (it's not nearly as satisfying as The Age of Miracles--what I refer to as apocalypse lite with a coming-of-age-story thrown in), but I will press on with it tonight, until I drift off to sleep. (This blog perfectly illustrates the joys of being married but living singly during the week--ice cream at will, reading late with the light on, blasting the AC, then taking up every last inch of the bed with my body.) Nothing more luxurious.

What are you reading tonight?