I woke up to a sudden crash of thunder right outside my window. The kind that makes you listen for the fire alarm to come on, or gives you the urge to go out and check your roof to make sure it's still attached. A bomb going off in response to some unseen flash of light.
I don't feel guilty as I walk by a huge stack of unfinished work piled dutifully on my desk--it'll still be there tomorrow...and the next day. I closed the door to the unpainted room next door, and lift open the window and pull up as closely as I can. The baby is asleep on the other side of the house; she'll be napping for at least another 2 hours.
I take a sip of coffee--not a Starbucks mocha, but this isn't exactly heaven, either. I remember there is some rock star who bought a Starbucks store for a corner of his house...well, maybe someday. Another sip. Not bad.
On the other side of the windowscreen is a continuous, soaking drizzle. And gray. It's a gray-feeling kind of day. Cheery, but gray nonetheless. The trees have fully leafed out bright green in anticipation of spring, but for some reason also look gray today. And the window squeaked open like a tomb exhaling for the first time after our brief, chilly winter. The smell of new rain with a hint of freshly-cut grass make me want to breathe deeper.
Somewhere, people are scurrying to buy Easter shoes that match their dress, or cleaning out their garage, or getting their painting done, or landscaping their yard. Mother nature granted me amnesty from that by drenching our yard this morning.
So...I'll just sip coffee and read. And breathe.
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