It is early morning, and the sun has yet to rise. Perhaps there is a faint brightening over the mountain to the east, but the light is not enough to amount to anything.

It is cold. I know, because I needed wood for the stove. So I went out. Out into the dark. Out into the morning that is still night. The air assaulted my body like a bucket of thrown water. It made me wake up. 

I do not want to be awake. I want to be in bed, in that luxurious, in between state of half wake and half sleep, when thoughts drift in and out of awareness, incomplete and yet seemingly full of meaning.

Awake means thinking ahead to the day’s work. Today is January 2nd, the day after a holiday and the first of the month. Work is guaranteed to be heavy. There may be water bills or electric or Co-Op magazines or Tennessee Electric magazines or DTC magazines or any combination of them all. Maybe there will be something in all of it that someone actually wants. Certainly an anticipated package. I rermind myself there is meaning and purpose to what I do.

There. The day grows brighter. At least the light reveals the heavy, gray clouds that cover the sky like a thick blanket. A blanket that reminds the land and the leafless trees to sleep. 

Seasonal depression is real, y’all. Have a good day anyway.