I LOVE waking up in the morning from good dreams to find myself looking forward to the day. It’s rare. Nightmares plague me and I usually stir into consciousness with all my troubles as bedmates who fight for the covers.
This morning I got up and sauntered–really sauntered, truly, like someone who’s never faced a single hardship, with my socks loose on my feet and my t-shirt twisted awkwardly around my waist–and started coffee. While it brewed I opened a window for fresh air, and, strangely enough, a warm January breeze blew in, when I’d anticipated cold. It rained overnight and the sky was still overcast but as I poured my coffee I noticed sunlight breaking through the clouds.
It feels like spring today. It feels like a day for writing and dreaming. It feels like living on a farm in the country, even though the view from my apartment features parking lots and streets and morning traffic.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. To be honest I don’t know where I’m going at all. But I’m happy for today and what it might bring. I look forward to all the responsibilities piling up on me, and I understand why I took them on. I have more queries to critique, a good manuscript to beta read, two WIPs calling out for me to make them whole, like lonely teenage lovers. I woke up this morning to over 200 notifications on Twitter, dozens more WordPress blogs to follow, DMs to answer, and new projects and schemes brewing fresh in my mind like the coffee filling my kitchen with the scent of Colombian dark roast.
I think I’ll leave this window open all day.