While everyone goes ahead rating the past year and planning for the next one, I am scotch-taping the bottom part of our windows to keep the cold wind out. My curtains are newly-washed. I feel like a hundred years old. White, white, everywhere, white. It happened after the holidays. My stomach, refusing to digest the mushrooms I cooked a few days ago. More days at home, woozy, feverish, knees jerking to my stomach in pain, retching over and over into the toilet bowl.
Where is my mom when I need her? Where are people, when I need them?
First, the sweater. Then, again, the sweater. Then the tying of the scarf. Then pull on my gloves. Then top it off with my coat. Then I take my keys. But. Off goes the coat. Off comes the gloves. Untying of the scarf. Slipping my mp3 player over my neck. Scarf on. Gloves on. Coat on. Run to the bus stop.
Naturally, the bus has left. Look at the bus schedule. Next bus is in 20 minutes. Walk downhill for 20 minutes in the cold.
Welcome to winter.
Have I progressed. What new things have I done. What have I learned. What have I dared to learn. Where have I been. What have I said. Have I dared to say enough. Last year, I wanted to minimize words, to maximize actions. Have I done that. Have I succeeded. Have I progressed. Have I progressed. Have I progressed.
So like I said: newly-washed curtains. They’ve always been too long; my curtains are 10 inches longer than they should be, and I’m not even kidding. And I’m not kidding, again, when I say that I’ve never done anything about it.
Until this afternoon, when I realized that hey, maybe it’s time to progress.
So I fixed it to the right length.
Using a stapler.
*thunderous applause*
