It is 7:30. I have been mostly awake since about 5 a.m. The sun has been trying to peek through the mini blinds since its rising, and I have been watching the slivers of light as they filter through the tree branches to find me still lying in bed, cold and patient, waiting for the furnace to warm things up a bit. Tinker has been stealing the blankets again. She likes to snuggle down between us, on top of the covers, of course. Even though the blankets are king and the bed queen, there still doesn’t seem to be enough to go around on the chilliest of mornings. If I were small and cold, I would want to snuggle between my parents, too. Heck, I am large and cold, and I still want two warm bodies to snuggle between.
It is now 8:30, and I am sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Tink has now taken on the job of warming my feet. So I guess the comfort she stole earlier, she is now returning. What a silly puppy she is.
I can see that the sky is gloriously blue already this morning. The rains have stopped. Last night’s winds must have rushed the final clouds away, sending them to a destination farther south. I know there won’t be many more days like this. The leaves are already turning brilliant shades of red and gold. Though the view from my window is inviting, I just cannot seem to enjoy even the thought of getting out there. My whole body hurts and I have a nagging headache.
Depression has a way of creeping in when I cannot escape the pain. When I see others enjoying themselves without me. When I see the sun shining. When I see disappointment on Ken’s face after I decline to go fishing with him. When I see all that needs done and am keenly aware of my inabilities. When all that seems inviting is the comfort of my pillows and blankets. Not even a hug is welcome on such a morning as this.
Maybe a nice, hot shower will do me some good. I will let you know after I take that long walk to the johnnie, shower bag in hand.
It is now 10 a.m. Shower is done. Teeth are brushed. Hair is coifed. I am dressed in clean clothes. It is good and helpful to at least appear better than I am feeling. But I think I will stay here for today and work on my book. The time has flown by this past week, and I have not gotten much accomplished that was on my list. I have, at least, almost finished a friend’s book he recently published. I feel terribly that it has taken me so long to get to it, but I am an incredibly slow reader. It is really pathetic how slowly I read. Dyslexia will do that to a person.
So today my plan is to edit my book. I am back on the sofa, all propped up with my computer lap table. (Thank you, Charlie, for giving Grandma a great Mother’s Day gift.)
Wish me luck.