Today, the weather is rainy, chilly, overcast. I am tired, so tired, from rising early everyday, working overtime, and from staying up too late every night. Averaging 4-5 hours of sleep a night wears you out, especially as we age.
Being overly tired, besides being draining on a body, makes a soul, at least this one, more vulnerable to feeling down, blue, depressed. The rain is doing little more that contributing to that, as I would much prefer to be somewhere quiet, alone, where I can withdraw into myself, pull up the drawbridge and contemplate Life. However, the everyday world requires a paycheck, so, I am dutifully at work, building catheters, listening to an audiobook, and being a responsible adult and productive member of society.
When I was a child, living on a farm and growing up a wilder sort of tomboy, days like this would find me out in the woods and fields, rain/drenched and muddy, insanely happy, enacting out fantasies of being a wild indian, or a pioneer explorer. Of course, that was every day, not just rainy ones. As an only child, I learned early how to entertain myself. Wandering, either afoot or astride my horse, utterly content to be solitary, like some modern day Thoreau, I was in heaven. There were many places to explore, many cow paths to follow, small creeks to wade through and jump over, ponds to fish in, woods to walk, and cornfields to slip through.
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