There is something nice about Monday mornings. Maybe the fact that my Mondays are everybody else's Sundays. Until I have to go to the traditional work schedule, Monday mornings are mine, they are sacred and they are above all, quiet. The stirring of my house doesn't begin quite so early and for the first few moments of my consciousness I am swimming in silence. But, the pure kind of silence. There is no slight buzzing of a t.v. or clicking of keyboard buttons. It's the breath you take in between being unconscious and conscious. It's that little window of space where you aren't thinking about what you should be doing in life and are simply living. It's the day I feel most myself because I had a day off from work and I remember that free feeling. The feeling I have when I am alone for too long, that I can do anything I want to. I will be moving to Portland in just about over a year. I will. The plans are in action. Monday mornings fill me up with happiness like this.
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