the house at night

Good Thursday to you.

Been stuck in some fast-forward mindset for weeks, keep thinking it’s a day ahead of what it really is.  Today was Thursday in my mind all day long, until I sat down to write what I figured was the capping entry of a bad week for writing (sometimes it happens, the writing-fail thing).  I kept checking my Friday calendar in anticipation of my schedule tomorrow, kept thinking I somehow missed trash day.  Strange.  Last thing I need to do is live any faster. This thing goes by too quickly as is.

Two nights ago I woke up in the dead-still of the 3am hour.  3am is one of those odd times; most night-owls and party-goers have finally turned-in and the early-rise commuters and gym-goers aren’t yet awake.  It’s truly a time for insomniacs, graveyard-shifters and the random waker.  That was me, the latter.  I lay still for a moment, listening through the window to just how quiet things were outside.  No cars, no dogs, not even a breeze to rustle leaves or chime the neighbors windchimes.  I tossed aside the comforter and, after using the bathroom an finding myself quite awake and free of the usual nighttime-pee drowsiness, decided to wander around the house a bit.

I love the house at night.  All cast in pale greens and blues from the digital clocks and standby lights.  Silent and shadowed and the emptiness of it makes it feel bigger.  Honestly, I walked around with my arms outstretched all INRI style just admiring how spacious things feel when you’re all alone and it’s the middle of the night.  Poured myself a glass of water, plopped in some ice, and stood there in the center of it all, in my boxer shorts with my belly hanging out, admiring my domain.

I have a lot to be thankful for.


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