Bites

[rejectomorph]

The early dusk keeps catching me unaware. Cats are unfed, laundry unfinished, dinner... well, dinner is always late, anyway. But I keep feeling as though the day has slipped away, wasted, and that the night will be too long. Back in the days when I slept until one o'clock almost every afternoon I didn't get this feeling. The few hours of daylight during which I was awake were sufficient, and the night never seemed long.

But that was when I didn't mind being outside to watch the stars when the nights grew cold. Maybe it was because there was always a warm house to return to. Now I leave the house chilly to save fuel, and the pleasure of going back in doesn't last long enough to make going outside seem less onerous. So now the cats are unfed, the laundry unfinished, and the stars unwatched, and I'm uncomfortably chilly. And I still have to make dinner.

At least I've got electricity and my feet are dry. Plus my house has not been washed away. But then winter is still ahead. The town could still end up under a big load of snow. Everybody's turn comes around eventually. Sometimes weather just bites.

Comments

[daisydumont.livejournal.com]

That's why I've not felt too relieved not to be on the east coast right now -- it'll be Seattle's turn one of these days. Sorry you haven't felt like going out to watch the stars. (I don't know yet if I could see them from here. Most days I can't even see the mountains, though they're close by.)

[rejectomorph]

Ah, the famous Northwest winter overcast. Sometimes that will shift this far south, and sometimes one or two of Southern California's mild winter days will shift this far north. Everybody talks about sending us some of their weather, and then they do something about it.