Tuesday, December 26, 2017. Just after 8:00 am.
It’s the day after Christmas. I haven’t written anything for several days.
Life’s been very busy these past weeks, months.
The house is quiet, everyone’s gone back to work. I am alone. The only sounds I hear are the ringing in my ears and the neighbor’s rooster crowing. Is this what retirement will feel like? Peaceful. (once I get past the ringing)
I’m sick. I can’t remember the last time I was sick. Not like this anyway.
I need to blog, but I’ve been avoiding the computer. What would I say? Who would I speak to? It must be perfect.
I want to go back to sleep. To drift off into dreamland.
I’m drinking the coffee my daughter gave me for Christmas. I love the first whiff of coffee when you open the bag. The aroma is soothing. But, this is different. This coffee has a bouquet. I can’t put my finger on it. It smells of chocolate. But, after a sip, there’s a hint of coconut? It’s sweet, not bitter.
Have you ever heard anyone say, “It tastes like the smell of…”? The sense of taste and smell are often confused. How I can do either with my cold?
My room is a mess. Gift bags, wrapping paper, and boxes litter the floor and the comfy chair that was displaced when we set up the Christmas tree. Underneath the empty boxes, two jackets are strewn over the arm of the chair. They were never put away because I couldn’t get to my closet.
No problem, January 3rd is my last day of work. I’ll have a lifetime to pick up and put things away.
I want to lay back down and go to sleep.
Nope. Not happening. The chocolate, coconut, cardamom coffee has kicked in along with the daytime cold medicine I took.
It’s the end of the month. I think I’ll tackle the bills.
Smiles are contagious; let’s start and epidemic