But the pessimistic side of my nature is neither surprised nor aggrieved by this fact. (In high school I once wrote a paper for English class called "The Value Of Being Pessimistic", in which my strongest argument in support of the melancholy outlook was that Pessimists are never taken by surprise in the event of a disaster. They knew it would happen and they're generally prepared for the worst case scenario.)
I am beginning to suspect that I may like the inside of this house best in the winter. When the gas fire is going because the temperatures have dropped. When the kitchen becomes the coziest place to be.
But time will tell. It is also just as likely that by the time Spring makes an honest, for real appearance, I'll be just as happy to see her strolling down the lane and will run out to embrace her in all her bird singing, leaf rustling glory.
I freaked myself out this morning in the bathroom.
I reached beside myself and took a length of toilet paper to wipe my eyes. I was yawning too much, making them water.
After I wiped my eyes I saw that the paper was yellow where I'd wiped.
I mean YELLOW.
Then I realized that my tear duct moisture had put holes in the paper, and I was looking at the bright yellow Ikea carpet through the holes...
Heart beat restored.
I need to accomplish something tangible today.
I do far too much loafing. And I don't mean the "batter mixing, into a pan, oven baking" kind of loafing.
If one could have a career wasting time, I'd be one of the top in my field.
In my field.
Ha! Get it? In my field.
Hmm.... I should maybe get something to eat. Haven't had breakfast yet, and there are certain indications that my blood sugar may be dropping... (see above)