And a beach umbrella. And I went to the beach. And I sat on the chair. And I watched the waves. And I read a book. And I waded in. And my friends arrived. And we took a walk in the surf. And ... and then I went to work.
I knew I would only have a short time at the beach, and I briefly considered not going at all, but then I remembered that we are what we do, and we become what we practice, and I remembered that I don't want to be the person who pays bills and goes to work on LGBTQ Pride Sunday, when I could be the person who goes to the beach and then to work on Pride Sunday, and so I put on my suit, packed some cold drinks, and headed out.
Along the way I passed a store selling beach gear, and remembering that I have for a long time wanted to be a person who owns a beach umbrella, I stopped for one and became that person. When I got to the beach, and it was cool and misty, so I became a person who doesn't need the umbrella just because she bought it. When I got out to where I was supposed to meet my friends, nobody was there, so I became the person who enjoys the beach alone, which I do actually, very much. When some friends arrived, I became a person who puts down her book and enjoys friends. And when I had to leave before most of the other people I know even arrived, I became the person who leaves swiftly and without drama, because starting Monday, I will be the person who will not have some weeks off from work, and I will be able to go swimming whenever I want, or whenever it is not raining, whichever comes first.