Snow Day

I woke up today to find mounds of snow all over the ground and covering people's cars in the street. It was a very quiet and empty moment, and suddenly I felt very ghost-like, looking out the window in thin clothing and studying the shapes of feet in the snow. It was what they call a profound moment. 

More than anything, I decided to actually relax today. I am used to a sort of pseudo-relaxation, where I am only hanging onto the surface and unable to feel any sort of comfort. I am used to lingering. Surfaces are all I am afforded, and rarely full immersion into something as lovely as a relaxing, nice day.

 I try to take a bath, get my mind off of things, but I only starkly feel the thin trails of sweat from the hot water on the back of my neck, and an acute awareness of my body. I cannot relax. I try to afford myself the nice things - a moisturizing face mask, some lotion, a really smooth cleanser that soaks into my skin. None of these feel good enough, because I expect too much of myself.

That is one of my many problems. I expect too much of myself. I try to play it off as a gentle horoscope excuse: Virgos are supposed to expect too much of ourselves, aren't we? But I know that's not all it is. I don't terribly like to talk about it.

And times like these, I remember why I wanted to become a writer. I cannot keep these things swept up inside of me to collect dust, to be found at a later date when I have collapsed from the weight. 

So, I write them out on a snow day, like this one.

(by the way, I got a haircut a few days ago - here it is!)