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under_control
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» pleasantville It's morning and the high cirrus clouds are filling up the view from my window. Ah, there, my alarm clock just went off. There's something about being out of bed before the alarm goes off that makes me feel so capable. Having spent all of my formative years in the land-locked Midwest, I still sometimes get hung up on the little daily differences of the West Coast. A moment ago, while staring slack-jawed out the window, a seagull drifted in and out of view. I love living where seagulls fly. On foggy mornings I can listen to the -mong- of warning bouys out in the bay and the occasional answering cry of the freighters heading to Richmond. I'd like to just thank whatever is responsible for mornings like this. My elecrolytes must be balanced or something, because the usual sluggishness is nowhere to be found and the Sturm und Drang has been push back into the darker parts of my brain for a while. And the twitter of English sparrows is certainly a friendly sound. Sometimes I feel ashamed of myself for trudging about so self-centeredly absorbed in my problems. I look around and I see that all of my friends are dealing with their own things. Damn. My life isn't really anything to complain about. There's residual pain from a relationship that didn't go where I hoped. There's the uncertainty of my future, and the bumbling confusion over my reintroduction to the dating scene. But really, is any of that really BAD? It's all something that has been experienced and documented by writiers stretching back to the earliest recorded writing. Ah well. Today is starting out as a wonderful day, and I know that can easily change, but for now everything seems to be rolling off my back like oil off a hot Teflon(c) skillet.
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diaryland |