Okay. I’m downstairs in the Grand Cafe. I order a dry cap, but the foam is a little too wet and already collapsing, the shots pulled long. I get my box of pastries. Good enough.
Back at the room, I run the bath, I gather up the paper, I organize my coffee and my pastries, and I climb in the water. It’s hot. I mean really hot. I’m sweating. I take a bite of pastry. Okay. I try to read, but its kind of hard. I’m sweating. I think I’m reading about whether we’re entering a recovery or not. I take a sip of coffee.
I wait a few minutes, but my phone doesn’t buzz.
Dang it.
What’s the pleasure in something undeserved? A bath, any pleasure really, must be earned and earned in the right way. Even by the end of today if I’m lucky I’ll have spent the better part of my time writing. But I will not have run 12 miles or heaved a ton and a half of coal or been zapped by a few centigrays of uranium. No heavy lifting (really heavy lifting) whatsoever.
So there you have it: stuck yet at the Monaco, staring at the most lovely of cakes, with no desire (let alone right) to eat it.
Snowflakes Edge 
“Any pleasure really must be earned and earned in the right way.”
Well, I used to sneak into a lot of movies without paying. I know, go ahead – arrest me. But I discovered that the pleasure of a movie was doubled if I hadn’t paid for it. I don’t think that pleasure qualified as being “earned” – since it was stolen – but then, that’s what made it a pleasure.
Hmm.
But then, switch gears to love for a moment. The pleasure of feeling loved – by a parent, by a lover, by a God – without having had to earn it – just by being you – surely this is one of the greatest pleasures there is?
But you did earn the movie – you stole it. You earned your keep by sneaking past the usher and the popcorn dude.
As for the love of god and spouses who will one day divorce us – you’re right we don’t deserve it. But them again boy do we know it. That’s different than awakening from a fat night’s sleep. 🙂