Inside My Head Today

I wanted to go to the park today but my bones wouldn’t carry me farther than my balcony. Airbourne and I are combining efforts and putting up our dukes to fend off those nasty cold germs attempting to stage a coup. Such a shame, too… on a day filled with sunshine and soft breezes. What’s left of my mind drifted back to the last time I sat in the sun. Nope. Escapes me. It was that long ago.

My head fell back as that magnet that is my face locked into the sun. (And, yes, I hit my head on the metal bar on the top of the chair. Dammit.) What I saw behind those snugly closed eyelids was nothing. Pink, to hot pink, to red, to white. Nothing. I tried desperately to make my brain match my eyes. Nothing. I was in search of nothing. And the harder I searched the more it eluded me. I’m not good at nothing. (And it pains my grammar-purist head to even write that.)

So, I opened my eyes and looked at the sky. The clouds were high and feathery and light. I stroked my dog’s head as she fulfilled her duty of anxiously watching - and emitting sufficient low rumbling growls – toward the neighbor’s cat sashaying down the sidewalk. The neighbors’ cats love to taunt my dog; she’s such an easy mark. She’s got some deep-seated insecurities, but that’s a topic for another time. I picked up my camera and took a couple of shots of the sky. I retrieved my Polaroid and took a couple more. I watched the clouds change and become more dense, wondering if it would be a good sunset.

That cup of hot ‘n sour soup I had for lunch wasn’t going to hold me till dinner, so I ducked into the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich. When was the last time I had a peanut butter sandwich? Nope. Escapes me.

A nice little break and I feel somewhat rejuvenated with a refueling – fuel for the spirit and fuel for the body. Baby steps. I’m learning to relax. But I have to approach this new concept with baby steps. Who knows? Maybe tonight I’ll go crazy and pick up a magazine.