Chill of November, with or without strong wind, or few whirling snowflakes, always surprises me because it sneaks up on you, like 9AM does when you still thought it was just past 8.I went outside at 6:30AM without first checking that weather app on my phone or online weather reports – like diving into the pool without first checking to see if there is water in it.
I’ve never really understood barometers – their relationships, good weather morphs to bad and back again between ups or downs in barometric pressure. Impact on, or rather from, movements in temperature, weather systems, migraine headaches and traffic accidents boggle my feeble mind; how can these things have such profound impact – especially when we scarcely know they are happening unless we have our eyes glued to a correctly calibrated measuring tool … so I wondered, ‘should somebody write a story about that?’
But it seems, there is always weather outside. Even when harsh it is an improvement on my inside-head weather. Weather in my head gets stormy some mornings. Not that I have emptiness to face down, but empty-ness in some part of me from that night before.
My ‘thinking workday’ starts at my desk. Cockpit-like, screens, keyboards, everything fresh and within reach for takeoff, yesterday’s logs, notes and finished thingsstowed, reprioritized or trashed. Another day or negotiations, rationalizations and procrastinating …
Fight between future self, past self – stuck between them I negotiate, draw battle lines. Sometimes I just leave the room. Notadvancing, I retreat to a book,tub-soak or mindlessly travelling to foreign lands. Coffee cup refilled, returning to reality of my chair. There.