It's been a long couple of weeks. The light fades and so does my energy. We have to do these stupid "ice breaker" questions during staff meetings at work. They're usually dumb, but occasionally amusing, like when they asked what my favorite Halloween costume was and I remembered the time I went as a flapper when I was in the third grade. My mom made a simple sheath-type dress and sewed layers of fringe on it because she had those kind of mad skills. Everything moved when I walked. She found me a long cigarette holder and put a candy cigarette in it because, hey, it was the 60s. It was super cool. I sashayed around the school carnival for hours, pretending I was smoking and shaking my fringe.
She used to cuss like a sailor when she sewed. You wanted to steer clear of her when she was sewing.
Anyway, the ice breaker at the last staff meeting was, "What are you looking forward to?"
I had no answer.
Sequoia and I may go on vacation next year, we may visit Arly, so I'm looking forward to those things. But there's something about these darkening November days that stunt my imagination. I'm usually all about imagining/anticipating/dreading the future but lately I've been spiraling in an endless slog of now.
I am grateful for the now. I treasure the now. But, I wouldn't mind a little sweet anticipation.
I'd like to run into the Sisters of Mercy right about now. I could use some love that is graceful and green as a stem.
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