nowiammyself

Outside is gloomy and cold, but it isn’t windy. A fresh layer of white snow coats some cars and the sidewalks.The streets are wet and slushy, black and gray.

I feel cold and bored. I can’t commit to any single task, so I sit in my papasan chair with a cat snuggled up next to me for warmth, and I close my eyes every few minutes. I check my phone for a text that will never come. I refresh a few apps. I shut my eyes again.

Light shines in through the window, but not a lot. The sky outside is gray, gray like the slush I sloshed my salt-covered boots through when I walked to the grocery store to buy a few things, but not any mushrooms. The store is completely out of mushrooms.

I sit in my chair, laptop on my lap, cat on my knee. A vanilla candle burns nearby.

Today I made a good cup of coffee. Today I made a not good cup of coffee. A fresh bag of beans, coffee freshly brewed, poured haphazardly into a mug already full of water. I daydream of rainy mountainsides, fog, swinging in a hammock and a pozo of coffee.

I will make banana muffins, I thought, but I changed my mind because my hands are dry and cracking and I don’t want to do anymore dishes.

The Christmas tree lights are on. The countdowns are at zero. Yesterday’s empty boxes and tissue papers have been thrown away, wet footsteps in the alley leading to the full dumpsters. My cat is perched on my lap, gently breathing, and I clean her runny eye.