I crawled out of bed and went to wash my face. After a splash of cold water I could smell it. So distinct and unwelcome. Monday.
I put on a pot of coffee and went to get the paper. I’m almost sure there’s nothing but bad on the news today. It’s Monday.
I took a bath and stared at my closet. What to wear, what to wear… Somehow the need to wear something office-like was not in me today. I decided on something gray and blah. What the heck, it was Monday.
Outside it was crisp and cool. Everywhere I could see traces of fall coming. I walked to where my shuttle for work is parked and one minute before I got there it started to rain. Wouldn’t you know it. Mondays.
I wish it was Tuesday. I like Tuesdays.
It was raining this morning when I left the house.
I got wet, a little but I didn’t mind.
I love the rain. The feel of it as it touches my skin, the sound it makes as it hits my umbrella. There’s nothing like it. I’d take rain over sunshine anytime.
Picture from sharondonovan.com
I like to write. Scratch that, I love to write. I’ve been scribbling stuff in diaries, notebooks, at the back of books, table napkins, in my phones and in my computer since I was a kid. Now I’m not saying I’m any good. I’m just saying I love doing it.
Writing to me is release. A way I take myself out of a situation, which is usually a bad one, and find peace. Some people get high, some people go to the gym (I do this too), some people eat (I do this one also, hehe). I write. It doesn’t have to be prescriptive. It could be anything. A prose, a poem, a rhyme, the start of a story, a phrase.
I hope my stuff doesn’t bore you. These are my musings. Be nice.