monday morning

what do you do on a Monday morning, when you wake and feel a little jolt of 'I don't have much work booked this week and that's three light weeks in a row!"?  you tell yourself to relax.  you make a pot of coffee (and spike it with your daughter's lovely whole milk).  you remind yourself of the good months you and husband have had, of your savings, of the non-emergency-nature of this panic.  you throw open the doors to take advantage of the glorious morning.  you contemplate doing things but only do, like, one of them.  you take your coffee and computer outside and play with photo booth:

you resist the urge to read more about people using shamelessly uncivil language to describe a Georgetown law student, or any political something-something with which they don't agree.  you contemplate a quiet boycott of all media for personal sanity.  at least, political media - the continuing tornado coverage makes you cry, and you know it's the stories about suffering and humanity that you need to be exposed to, to be reminded to be helpful when possible and grateful all the time, all the time, that perspective is everything.  you finally come around to thanking your stars that you've been given time to slow down.  at some point every day you feel bone tired, and it's much easier to give in to such a feeling when you're not running in ten directions.

you prepare to run in and brush your teeth before heading out to your one session today.  and suddenly the last thing you want to do is leave this chair, on this deck, in this patch of sun.

-m.y.