With the days at their shortest and the skies gunmetal gray, every fiber of my being is telling me to sleep. When the alarm goes off in the morning, I surface in slow motion to full consciousness, the world a dark and blurry place.
Some days I never quite exit sleep, it drags at my limbs and fogs my brain. Every horizontal surface invites me to recline. On the Metro, I struggle to keep my chin off my chest as the train hums along between stops. The cold air outside the station provides a needed slap in the face, stirring me to full consciousness.
At night, the moment I shut my eyes I begin dreaming, disheveled arrangements of time and place overlapping in jagged storylines. I want to stay in this dream world where all time exists at once, where friends and family from the past, present, and future mysteriously come together and assume new roles. I could pass the whole winter wrapped in warm flannel sheets and my favorite red fleece blanket.
It’s been weeks since we’ve had a sunny day, and I think that’s at the root of my lethargy. I desperately need to recharge my solar battery, to tip my face up to the sky and not feel rain, to step out the door and reach into my purse for my sunglasses.
Blue skies and white clouds, a dream on the horizon.
Copyright 2005 Veronica McCabe Deschambault
December 22, 2005