Drifting Awake
Idle Thoughts
The days are drifting here on a fragile boat in an indifferent sea. Anita rose from her bed at 7:30 am to open her blinds to look on the day. She had a view of the valley below and could see that the rain of the past week was lifting and the sun was promising to burn off the fog rising up from the forest floor.
Her little dog was curled up beside her for warmth and she disturbed him as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee which she had prepared the night before on a timer.
Returning to bed with her coffee, she reflected in her still dreamy state on the dream she could recall before she woke. In her dream, she was being prodded in her nether regions with an intrauterine device by one of her clumsy students at a home business dedicated to preventing pregnancies. The nature or curse of having a woman’s body meant being in these uncomfortable predicaments, legs in the air and staring at the ceiling with an awkward detachment while strangers came and went.
She picked up her tablet and read an email from a dear friend and for a little while… She was in Philadelphia, experiencing life being lived there with hopes and dreams and working struggles. The letter described working 7 days a week at two different jobs. It was optimistic and uncomplaining but cautiously guarded in reality. The letter spurred her on with other details of insightful thoughts and encouragements.
Anita could stay in bed all morning if she wished but wouldn’t as the lethargy would then settle over her in a kind of despair. The weather invited a long walk in the woods, just as her friend predicted for her in the letter. After all , she knew her fragile boat was drifting, drifting toward oblivion, so she decided to steer a lazy zigzag while caught in the doldrums in the temporary calm before the inevitable storm.
She began to whistle a happy tune and headed to the shower.
