Morning's breath

I woke up this morning to fog filled air and coolness slipping down from the window and in between the edges of my sheets, caressing me. I cringed and withdrew. Shut my eyes and masked my face, morning wouldn’t see me if I could help it. I could help it. Hours later the sun had burnt off the fog and by the time I rolled out of bed it was uncomfortably warm. But I was well rested.

The majority of the day was spent doing the sort of errands which don’t amount to much. Another check mark on the calendar. Or at least there would be another check mark on the calendar if I didn’t use my cell phone to keep track of the days. But given that technology has spared me that chore, I also have lost the satisfaction of tearing the past away, crossing off old obstacles and I’ve also saved a tree or two.

How did this day take so much time? I meant to do so much more. Instead I’ve spent too much time asking the sort of questions which would merit a time out if I was two, but due to the empty house around me are merely echos of my indecision. I don’t know the answers to these questions so rather than taking action I’m going to open the window prior to my departure into dreamlands, so once again I can be greeted by the morning’s advancing breath before hiding under my pillow.