end of January

In the winter I shave at night, try to get everything done at night. Waking up is not an easy task.

Fearful winter mornings.

Bring your sleeping bag, and something soft to sleep on. This book is too large to hold comfortably in bed leaning back against the wall; it’s size intimidates, makes me want to return it to the library on time next month. As a reader, what kind of courage do I have? Well, how much time do I have? Can’t read everything.

Dryness. So much dryness! Sometimes we crack the windows just to get some cooler, moist air in here. Still, we can hardly complain for being kept so warm through this seasonal war. They want to keep me busy at work. I want to keep busy, too. It’s better that way. The time goes faster and when it’s over, without a doubt I can say I put everything I had into it. Then I have my own time, for what it’s worth these days. Maybe it really is about putting in the hard hours now so that you don’t have to later. I don’t want to have to retire in my 60s. To hell with that. Maybe I’ll find something I can do to make enough so I can retire in the next 10 years, I don’t know.

Next.

Thoughtful. Grateful.

Tired.

Restful. Peaceful. Listening to music in bed. Listening to music in my head.