11.18.07 9:58 am

november grey and it seems like it was just here and yet here we are again. summer is a hazy memory of awakening and back we go into the steel soggy mist and the old familiar appreciation for the tallest cup of coffee. which i just happen to have right beside me as i type. opening my window did little to bring in much daylight, which seems to be the way of things up here.

i was thinking (i've been thinking a lot lately) that it's been years since i really kept up at all with journaling, or any writing at all (or anything muchly creative for that matter). it's unsettling. which seems to be the word for the day (month... year... decade...). i find i'm usually either running running or completely comatose, or in the worst kind of anxiety that is running while comatose - torture, that.

speaking of torture, next month i'll finally hit the dreaded 40 milestone. something, as my bro-n-law joyfully pointed out, is the birthday "that you've been dreading since you were probably 18... and i am certain i don't know ANYONE who has purely DREADED turning 40... or ANY OTHER AGE, for that matter... as much as you!" hmmph. so, there's that.

and of course i had a list of things to accomplish this year, all before turning the dreaded 40, and of course i've ignored the list completely. so onward it comes, with no regard for the fact that i in no way feel i should be this old already. and apparently, neither does anyone else. when i mentioned to a coworker this was the year i was turning 'the big one', he thought i meant i was turning 30. and he's not the only one; i get that a lot. which could be good or bad, depending on how you look at it. i think it comes down to this: as my frighteningly wise and perceptive niece recently asked me: "auntie lauren, um, are you a kid or a grown-up?" my reply: "i'll have to get back to you on that one, zoe."

so, as i near the completion of the first forty years of my life, i feel the urge to finally put down the stick and walk away from the huge pinata of regrets, pains, should haves, if onlys i've been carrying around with me forever... god knows i've beaten the fucker for so long now, it's all just a sodden pulp of paper-maché memories, trampled and picked over.

so, let's just start with today.

today i have coffee, it's a greymist morning, . alphonse is a snoring grey cuddleball on the couch, and t is still a bundle of blankets in the bedroom, his feet hanging over the too-short bed for his long body.

today there is laundry and groceries and cooking to do. grilled cheese and soup will be had. movies will be watched. cuddling will commence beneath the comfort of the magic blanket.

tomorrow will come.