Cold hands this morning. The temperature in the house is 64 degrees. Why so cold? Turn on the heat. Ok. The outside temperature must have dropped overnight. God, can’t I make up my mind? One day I can hardly wait for the cold…the next I am complaining about it. Last night Stephen and I had dinner at Oliver’s, a rather nice restaurant in Oakville, to celebrate our 5th anniversary. Five years…how the heck does that happen? In a blink of an eye…that’s how. Life has a way of being over so quickly. It’s shrinking constantly. That’s just the way it is. As human beings we get to contemplate our time running out. Despite all this we had a nice time. The food was wonderful as always, yet both of us are amazed at the number. Five years…ha? What? That’s half a decade. What is that in gay years? No way of knowing or measuring.
Yesterday, while in a bookstore I noticed that the new organizers are in stock now. They shout with urgency from their respective shelves; 2003! Get away from me!
Now my nose is cold. And the grass that was so parched on my front lawn has suddenly sprung back to life. It really needs to be cut. When? I don’t know…on the weekend.
Unfortunately I am feeling pressed for time, (or is it depressed by time?) and although it’s my inclination to write on, I need to get my day underway…and face the music…as flat and as off key as it now seems to me. Face it.
What’s the saying about cold hands? Break a leg; the day begins.
