Today is shaping up to be one of those days.
We're coming off of 3 weeks of endless hours of pain, coughing, doctors, medicine, moments of exhausted sleep and earlier-than-should-be-legal wake-up calls, testing, cold weather, stuff. You know: LIFE.
And as I sit here staring into the screen of my laptop I feel weepy. Tired. Tired, like I have to go pee but can't peel myself off of the couch to walk the 20 or so steps to get there, tired.
It's cloudy and freezing today, with the occasional sunburst of "Hello! I'm still here!" Sunshine that gives the promise of spring warmth but doesn't actually deliver. The snow creeping down the mountain this morning is proof of that.
I love the rain. I love that it lets us turn the sprinklers off and save a few pennies. I love that it puts the fires at bay for another day. I love watching the water rush down the 'rain chain' near my front porch.
Here's to hoping that they come soon. That they don't dribble out and dry up before the ground is saturated with them. I want the words in puddles to splash in, not like a drought, to ration the drops, to spread them across the web. To fill this space, to grow the weeds of the mind, then able to pluck what is unneeded, toss it aside, and love the flowers that remain.