My journal is my outlet. I add to it constantly. It allows me to speak the thoughts that I am unable to say out loud.
- Member since February 6.
- I am a woman (United States)
- I have 8 comments, 30 poems, 1 story, 12 journals
My Journals
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I reach my arms over my head, fingers laced together, and stretch to the sky. The muscles in my shoulders ache with the stretch. I feel the pull of each muscle as i lean from one side to the next. The March wind hums through the chimney, a soft song, rising and dropping in tempo and volume. Although I haven't looked outside or checked the weather, I know that today is not the day for fancy hair or wrap-around skirts. It feels alien to wake with a smile, especially at this forsaken hour of the day. I'm not going to question it. I'll just wear it and enjoy it. It is very early morning. The world sleeps around me as I sip my coffee and welcome today. I don't have anything special planned for today yet I sense that I will find surprises in unexpected places. Off to the shower! I truly hope that I don't find unexpected surprises in there this morning. *chuckling* Good morning!
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I left work early today. A mini four hour vacation. In accordance with my exciting life-style, I immediately changed into pajamas and crawled into bed for a nap. The doorbell rang. Not once, not twice, but three times in rapid succession. Of course, this set the dogs off and I was forced to answer the door. So what if it was 2:00 in the afternoon and I was wearing pajamas and had bedhead! It was a neighbor telling me he would be gone next week and would I bring in his paper. Back to bed. Just after I dozed off, the phone rang. It was the girl that was covering me at work, so I had to answer. We talked and crisis was averted... for thirty minutes, then the phone rang again. This call wasn't an office crisis, she wanted to know if I had found someone's glasses. Back to bed. I tossed for a little bit and then gave up. I never changed out of my pajamas, though. I'm so rebellious. So, here I am, getting ready to climb into bed again, this time for the
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I open my eyes to the darkened recesses of my room. I hear the sleep sounds of both dogs nearby as I reach to turn off the alarm before its time. There is no need to startle others awake. I hear the coffee maker as it gurgles the last bit into the pot. My morning brew is waiting for me to wake. I pull on my robe and shuffle into the kitchen toward my caffeine fix and the beginning of Wednesday. Thinking over the night while inhaling the coffee steam, I don't believe that I dreamed. Sleep was almost absolute. Almost is a good thing. Absolute sleep, to me, is death. I'm not ready for that sleep. I still have laundry to do! With a small grin, I light my cigarette and relax into the early morning minutes. This day will start soon enough. For now, I believe I'll usher it in slowly, quietly, and in comfort. Good morning.
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Any day is a good day that ends with a smile, even if it is a small smile. Today is one of those good days. I knew a man once that used smiles as punctuation. He would place a colon : and a right parenthesis ) in place of a period in his texts. It worked well until I changed phones and every one turned into a goofy smiley icon. The icons made it difficult to read the texts. If it was a particularly long message, I would have about 20 of those staring at me at one time! I visited with him recently. He is still the special person that he was way back then. We dated and drifted into friendship. There was no heartbreak although sometimes I play a little mind game of 'what if' with myself. He is happily in a relationship and moving forward with his life. And it is as it should be. I wouldn't have wanted what we once shared to be tainted with the ugliness of an ended romance. It was never meant to be in that sense. Thinking
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- The Snapshots at storywrite
Flashes of Childhood Memories
