The irresistible urge to be outside and among, cruising through the cemetery with the windows down, chance encounters leading to watching gifted undergrads play harp and violin, walking to the lake to wander among skeletal tipi frames of driftwood inhabited by wandering dreadlocked souls, hipster couples, lycraed runners, motorcycles whirring down the highway, stoop-shouldered seniors gathering ever more rare beach glass, the water light azure.
(the middle part near the end just gets me in a way I can't explain).
The caffeine consumed on Sunday morning has worn off and my eyelids are heavy as I sit in a friend's living room watching the curtains undulate in the breeze, singing along to Faith No More in the car glad that no one else is paying attention, drinking tea and finally getting around to getting some writing done for the first time in awhile. I don't feel like going back to work just yet. I've been thirsting for this warmth for so long.
Ha ha, you're back at work.
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