November 4th, 2004



Hibernation sounds like a good idea right about now. The darkness presses close, co-dependent and deadening. Fog winds down and trails about. Everything is dark with wetness, sodden and decomposing. Bare branches leave a tracery against the sky; blink and you see white lightning looming. Everyone is a little grumpy, but when the sun shines, you can feel the electric frenetic fever of desperation hum through everyone you meet.

It's not cold here, not yet, but the moisture in the air is a deep thing. It gets in your bones and your lungs. It makes you cough, sometimes. I think the greyness is the worst, it's as if you'll never see colors again. Totally colorblind instead of just having trouble with the traffic lights. Living life in black and white, grayscaled pixelation.

The thing is, I'm not depressed exactly. I'm just tired. My pelt weighs me down and my movements are slow, each paw firmly pressed as it touches the ground, reluctant to move, reluctant to wake.

Autumn is not the best time to start a new job, when the sun is swinging its wide way closer to the ever-reclining earth. The need to be alert and learning is unbalanced by the need to lie down and stare slowly round the room thinking about things that, might, someday, need to get done.

Yeah, What She Said: Back to Math Class

2-for-1! Good Writing That's Cracking Me Up! Gratuitious Post-Election Post
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