Dark Days

Sometimes, no matter how bright the sun, the days are dark. They are so dark that the only thing that makes sense is staying under the covers so your world reflects your mind. Every morning my bedroom is the coldest and darkest room in the house. It makes for delicious sleeping and for horrid waking. These mornings when my mind is dark, my cold and dark room is comforting and comfortable. The only things that pull me out of bed are my bladder and the needs of my doggies.

Once I pried myself out of bed today (I won’t admit to what time that happened), I couldn’t bare the idea of another day spent sitting on the couch. So I put on a sweatshirt over my pajamas, put on a hat, pulled up the hood, slipped on some shoes, turned on some music, and took the little one for a walk. I must have looked like a crazy person with my had and hood, no bra, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets. But I was outside, doing something active, by myself, on a day when my brain was making me existential. I wouldn’t call it progress, but it was something.

Koda and I walked up and down the wash that runs between our neighborhood and the one west of us. (A wash is like an arroyo, which is sort of like a massive gutter. Used in the desert to collect water during the monsoon seasons to help – try to – avoid flash floods.) We walked through the neighborhood at first, but I was self-concious about my appearance, so we took the the wash which goes behind all of the houses. And here there are walls around everyone’s yard, so the wash is a corridor with outputs to the streets every few hundred feet or so. It’s a quiet and pleasant place to walk with minimal risk of running into anyone and Koda can run around off the leash which is a nice bonus. Erik and I discovered an even larger wash the other day where we walked with both the dogs. It was even more secluded than the one I walked in today. I’ll take pictures next time.

Of course now what am I doing? Back on the couch. Working, listening to music. Maybe I’ll go for another walk…

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