Look-Backs, interrupted

Naturally, a day that comes around only once every four years is a day that gets people thinking about where they were in their life the last time this day came around. I've seen some great posts about it -- particularly this one from Mandy Hubbard, a must-read for writers (especially those of us on submission) -- but the funny thing is, I simply can't remember. Previous Leap Days seem to no longer be stored in my brain. I do Look-Backs a lot. I had a particularly vivid Cinqo de Mayo one year, and I remember marking the moment in my head that night and wondering where I'd be the next Cinqo de Mayo, how my life would be different; if. I have this compulsion to track progress, to say things like, "Here I am today, which is weird, because there I was at this time last week." Like this past Sunday at 7:15pm when I looked at the clock and noted to myself that it'd been exactly a week, to the minute, since I got mugged. "Remember those moments before it happened?" I thought. "Remember how different I was, just a week ago?" (The answer: not very.)

Anyway. The strange thing about today is that I can't do a Look-Back to last Leap Day. Because I don't remember marking it at all. In fact, I have no memories of any earlier Leap Days whatsoever.

So, to rectify that:

  • I wore a new dress today, thinking I'd be at a luncheon that I ended up skipping. It's gray and smooth.
  • I smiled a goodbye to my sleeping boyfriend this morning, who looked so intensely comfortable it made me hiccup.
  • It's raining, and already feels like spring, and the corner bodega was selling small cartons of tulips in pastel foil wrappings, and it made me think of my mother.
  • Tonight I have a girls' dinner with my favorites, and we'll huddle under a roof and toast ourselves.

There. Now I can remember this Leap Day for when the next one comes in 2016.