Saturday, July 03, 2010

Early, Early Morning ...

Here I sit, clackity-clacking on my laptop. It is dark in my living room, save for the light of the screen and the track lights above the stairs, which I have brought up from dark to rather dim. My iced coffee is sitting just beyond my reach. All I can make out is the straw.

Light is breaking outside. Birds are singing to one another, surely not to me. I should be asleep. But I am not. I am here, listening to the hum of my refrigerator and the movement of the gears in the clock on the wall. The tick does not sound like the tock.

I was tired last night and I have a very busy day ahead, so if my mind were sane and my body benevolent, I'd still be asleep. But my mind decided to spin an awful dream about my city flooding, so much so that I couldn't get home, and all I could do was sit on some steps, just above the water, and think, "My basement is flooded," which is a concern I have in real life, every time it rains.

But it is not raining, nor has it been raining. It has been lovely, but the weather this weekend, if the weatherman knows anything at all (and some days that is dubious), will be hot. Ninety degrees hot. Which isn't so unexpected in July, I suppose, but it would have been nice if the pleasant weather could have hung on for another day or two.

Alas. At least the watermelon will seem more significant.

There's nothing necessary in this post, though I suppose none of these posts are necessary. But what is there to do before 5 a.m. on a Saturday?

I could go for a walk. But that seems somehow cruel. Plenty of exertion awaits today, in advance of everyone arriving tomorrow. Cleaning, cooking, general "company's coming" prep, all those things that I should do for myself but that I'm quite content to leave alone until someone is coming over. Funny how we're so willing to do for others that which we won't always do for ourselves.

That is far too much insight for this hour of the day.

Though I now know that the world is quite light at 5:09 a.m., that pretty grey light that complements the trees, looking a bit like a painting that has faded.

And there is much I can be doing, really, plotting out the day, at the very least, organizing what should get done when, the pre-party logistics, though no amount of anticipation ever seems to be enough. The day of still goes by in a blur.

So then, a happy 4th of July weekend to you. May it be filled with parades and sparklers and watermelon and gin.

Yes, I wrote "gin." It just popped into my head, and it made me chuckle. I'm usually not a gin drinker, and surely not at this hour of the day, so why it's on my mind, I have no idea.

But perhaps a gin and tonic will be in order at some point this weekend. After the holiday din has subsided and given way to an assault of fireworks. Which I will hear, muffled, through my windows which will be shut against the humidity and heat.

Join me, won't you? Stop by. Or call. You won't wake me.


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