Wasted morning

I was going to get up early. Do work. Be responsible. As I said last night through a veil of hair, sometimes being irresponsible is much more fun. True. But being irresponsible yesterday just left me with more questions. And the decision to do laundry and maybe go to the grocery store this morning have just made it worse. I am unable to get my act together until my clothes are finished cycling, and unable to get my head together about anything. I am so useless in the mornings.

And laundry cycles take so long that I have time to think, and wonder if I am really in this right. Maybe seventh week has hit me hard, maybe it is just the cold, the fact that I had a second blanket on my bed last night and slept fitfully, not cold, but sore and uneasy. Winter here is just as I remember winter at home. Wet, the weather condensing out of the air onto cobwebs and paving stones, frost every morning holding footprints from the night before.

Yesterday. A lifetime. I was walking home and had an impulsive moment, now wishing I had not. I get nothing from him and yet somehow know that his actions speak. Just not used to it. And already I am thinking that this won't work, he is too quiet, doesn't give enough to match how much I throw. Does this make me misguided? It just feels so strange, the locked doors, the porter, the single bed, the cold staircase... different. My life here has no room for him, much as I try. But does that mean I'm playing games or merely that I am having trouble switching gears? Too many questions for a Monday morning, and I must get dressed so that when my laundry is done I can go to the store and then get down to school.

This week is off on a bad foot.