Somebody’s got a case of the Mondays…
Sleep was unusually rough last night. I was thinking too much. There’s no sense in that and I remind myself this from time to time, but I forget.
The house was relatively quiet as I lay awake. Cooled air was pumping through the bedside vent to stifle the oppressive humidity that oozed into the city over the weekend. It sounded like the cabin of a plane. If only I could doze off and wake at my destination.
I did relatively fine most of the evening, ate well, watched a movie and a half. Realized I couldn’t read subtitles without my glasses from the couch, and threw some laundry in the wash.
Innocuous things. Maybe I needed to do something more exerting to avoid thinking about stuff.
When trying to figure out the future, I often slip into the past, recounting where I was at this particular time, a year prior, two years prior.
Incidents. Decisions. Actions. Results. Experiences.
I’m not sure why the bad parts and the good parts are so easy to remember. Where’s all the little details that fill in the dichotomy? Where’s the grayscale steps in-between? The shift?
Things get fragmented and my gut reaction is to find some order; some way to organize it and find the parts that fit together. To see some pattern emerge.
Bored with myself, I slept.
Today I’ve been mildly productive after beginning the morning with a nice stare-down in the bathroom. I may be stuck in this body, but I can at least look into a haircut.
In between emails I folded all the laundry and bounded up the basement steps with each april fresh load.
Screw last night and last year. Tonight, I eat sweet potatoes.
And I have my glasses handy if I need to read tv.