6 AM Thoughts
I woke up early this morning.
Last night, we had a terrific storm here in Hannibal. But our victorian was cozy with candlelight and shadow. I put Ghostbusters on and we all had dinner together. There's a mood for you right there. I watch life change from room to room and outside through the tall, curved windows. Neighbors pass by walking little dogs while inside, we fix the window frames and brass hinges. I make tea instead of coffee for once. My dog, Maci, was sleeping in the upstairs bathroom (weirdie). Beyond my bay windows, the sun begins to rise over the Mississippi river. Low-fi twinkles and clinks through my speakers. The overhead fans whirl. I mistype, backspace, and fix my spelling again.
It's a passing strange thing to experience all of this. All of this. Life. Change, from one moment to one passing moment. September is almost here now. The street corner across the street confirms it each morning as neighborhood kids wait for their big yellow bus. Leaves just begin to blush yellow. Fields of corn ripen and die - readying themselves for harvest. The contractors tell me they will finish their long summer labor on the outside of our home this week. I read once about how it is not the physical features of a given space that give it its being. It is everything else. The space between. Void which is not void. I feel this way about this changing season this year. It's been hard for me to feel things for a while now. Call it anti-anxiety meds. Or compound trauma. Burnout. A passing strangeness. Feeling the change of things has been something I typically relish. I almost navigate life through emotion and feel. I certainly know I write by it too.
It is Tuesday.
This means many things:
Taco Tuesday (I need to use up some of my avocados)
I must have my telehealth visit with my doctor later this morning
I have a third job interview early this afternoon.
Navigate, manage, investigate, follow up, pester, convince, sacrifice, care for, encourage, drive.
- All on a Tuesday. All on a today.