some days, like this one

…are just a funk you can’t dance to.

Yesterday while we were watching TV Deb spoke the phrase “I miss the rain.”

Those first few hours of winter wonder have curled up and died and rotted rather odiferously with the stress of car driving and car parking and car repairing after car driving and parking fuck-ups.

I may be hormonal but joy is hard to come by. Even as the future Dr. Bito.

Excitement is tempered by much anxiety. About moving, about paying for moving, about schoolwork, about teaching, about being so very alone so very far from home.

About leaving home feeling like the last cog of a shattered machine dropping through the floorboards where none of the other cogs will ever find it again even if they come back.

An impatience I’ve only just begun to let myself feel, with the interminable hours at this shit-boring job.

Impatience with repeated questions from old friends, seeking new stories when I have none worth telling.

What can I say. Sometimes I find happiness with what I have, savings and snow and sulking be damned.

Just…now is not that time.