Nowadays, I never know what I may have to deal with from moment to moment. Sometimes, I wake up, it is all normal and fine. Other days, like today, I would rather just pull the covers over me and hide there, forever. I get up because the Pickle needs to be fed. I make coffee, because that is what I do when I get up. I bathe, because it is bath day (every other day now that my skin is so very dry). I answer my phone. I go to my noon meeting, because it is Tuesday. One foot in front of another. Then I went to the Tuesday pastel class at the neighborhood art supply store, and peck away at a particularly fussy painting. My teacher is kind of fussy. I catch it from her, I think. Probably, I will mute out some of this fussiness, and it will be MY painting when it is done, instead of hers. Yes, I definitely think that will happen. Meanwhile, another day in my tiny life, almost gone. There is a good little mystery novel waiting for me in the bedroom, along with a warm puppy. Nothing terribly wrong. Just a down time. If we were smart, we would all hibernate, anyway.
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