Saturday, December 26, 2020

Maybe Tomorrow

And then it was over.   The thing was done.  

I woke to a frigid morning.  Clear sky.  Cats waiting.  Me a bit confused about what to do next.  Perhaps I should start my health regimen now rather than waiting for the New Year.  I've eaten holiday foods and meats and have drunk every sort of liquor.  I could load up on vegetables from the market today.  Wait.  It does me no good to "load up" on vegetables.  They do not last that long.  

"Easy does it, old sod.  Why do you always want to jump in with both feet and an anchor?"

A long walk, I'd say, if it weren't so friggin' cold.  Maybe I could start doing yoga again?  And what happened to the idea that I was going to begin making photographs?  

All my habits and routines have been disrupted these past three months.  It is difficult to re-establish the old or to begin the new.  

"Maybe I should wait until the new year like everyone else," I think.  But there is no reason for that other than to continue living willy-nilly.  Perhaps I need to make a schedule that is more regulated by the clock. Perhaps I need to establish a routine.  "Yoga at nine," for instance.  

But it is hard to plan.  

Look what a year has done.  Yes, I need to begin establishing patterns once again.  It is unnatural to live in such an unstructured way as I have.  Even animals know when to hibernate or migrate.  Maybe I should go back and read Ecclesiastes.  

I just went over to Google and sneaked a peak.  It didn't look quite like the lyrics to "Turn, Turn, Turn."  Not like I remembered it from Hemingway.  It looked more like "The Prophet" or some Indian shaman's mystical treatise.  That was my quick impression, anyway.  The short version, though, is do what you are supposed to do and stop worrying because that will not do you any good.  You will die no matter, so go about things with a pure heart and accept your fate.  

Oh, boy.  This is going to be harder than I thought.  

A pair of women walk by on the street.  They both wear down parkas that extend below their knees, scarves, and woolen hats.  My heater continuously runs.  Perhaps today isn't the best day to begin something new after all.  Perhaps today is a day best spent lying in bed.  

I can feel my anxiety building already.  I must quit it.  I must quit all this thinking.  Just another half cup of coffee and maybe I'll finish off that banana nut bread, too.  It is a sin to waste things they say.  

If I had some veggie sausages, I would make a big sonofabitch of a  breakfast.  Wait!  I have yesterday's ham!  A big old breakfast sounds good. I even have biscuits!  Oh, my. . . I have orange juice, too.  Is there any champagne?  No, today is not a good day to begin anything.  A big f'ing breakfast, a book, and eventually a nap.  It may climb into the 50s this afternoon.  I might get started then.  

As they say, there is nothing that can't be done. . . tomorrow.  

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