Happiness is a warm keyboard = I live to and love to write

Cloaked in happy sunshine the day should bring me a passel of good thoughts but, through the half turned blinds, the filtering rays do not reach me. Shuttered as I am and remotely working in front of a glaring, bright screen computer with movement restricted, I am sunshine deprived.

I pop a tablet of Vitamin D, fake sunshine, and realize life as I had known it has ended. I spend too many dark days in a makeshift office working with no one but myself to annoy. And what fun is that? I know me too well and tolerate me too much to offer any stimulating discourse.

I have a calendar that sits next to me and I X the days like a prisoner waiting for parole; which translates to: my day off.

I wonder if I should exercise more; am I eating foods with all the proper nutrients; is that beauty mark changing shape? It amazes me how quickly I go to the worry side of the brain when I only have myself to talk to, and I take note: I have no positive feedback when feeling trapped, so do not ask questions of self until weekend, better outlook ahead.

One hour left to the work day and I stare at the little Lcd clock watching the numbers flip, but watching is making them go slower than molasses dripping into an hour glass, an odd analogy and not sure where this comes from, but those numbers aren’t changing, and I want to scream.

Finally, the work day is done, I shut down the computer, extinguishing that unnatural light and step outside ,ready for some solar warming rays, but the sun is setting.

The last rays of sunlight streak the sky; the colors are beautiful but the day is waning.

I soak up the dregs of those last sun rays until the sun has fully set.

I go back inside to the incandescent glow of lightbulbs and the understanding that I only truly live in the weekends, and those weekends flutter by like speed bunnies marking time on a quickly flipping LCD clock, feels so unfair.

Some quilted pillow somewhere probably touts: we must learn to live in the minutes between the demands and responsibilities of life, but I wish the demands and responsibilities of life could live in the tiniest moments between my living it.

I know gripping about it wastes time, so I do pack that grumbling curmudgeon away for now and listen to the night birds singing on the branches of the trees outside, and the crickets that soon chime in.

I sip my evening tea and my husband turns on the late night news and the sound of tech type music of my son’s video game system can be heard in the background, but I can still hear those happy birds, chirping away in the moonlight...and I realize... my life is not so drudge filled, there are many moments when everything is perfect.

Thanks for listening