The culprit, I found, was the lack of light from the bedroom. I don’t like light in the morning but I have to have some of it to safely navigate the shower and perform my necessary functions within. For some reason this heature of crabit forgot to turn on that light, which casts from across the hall and around a corner, offering enough light to reveal the subtleties of the bathroom and the shower but not enough to irritate my morning-sensitive eyes. I turn this light on without even thinking about it and, given its relatively out of sight location, I forget it’s even there.
This explained all the mysteries I thought I confronted today. Why was the sun not coming up? Where is the daylight I usually have to work with at this hour? Why was Joe Connolly on WCBS 880 at a time I had not expected?
So many thoughts. Slimmed-down versions of interactions I had with a college girlfriend surfaced today as I put on my shirt. I put on button down shirts like they are buttonless t-shirts. She always commented on this, failing to understand who puts on an Oxford shirt like it’s a t-shirt. This was part of our post-sex ritual, when sex made me so hyper I didn’t care what kind of vaguely insulting comments she made. We were never happy together, at least I was never safe or comfortable with her. But O, she tasted sweet. I’d keep her on my tongue through the day, as best I could.
She passed through my head today as I glanced at the bedside table. It still holds the ponytail holder of a woman I tried to love but couldn’t get through to. She left two of her ponytail holders behind, possibly as a signal that she expected to return to my bed, or maybe just because she forgot. I don’t know which is more likely because I never got into her mind. She was no dummy but not much of a schemer, either.
I feel strange today. In bed by 8pm (I think) then awake again at midnight but I managed to get back to sleep, unlike most episodes of this type. I’ve come to think that waking up before the alarm goes off is a good thing. The alarm is, well, alarming. Arresting. Preempting it and disabling it before it goes off feels like a victory.
Today I saw the woman I sometimes see on the subway for the first time in a few weeks, maybe longer. Did not pay her any consideration, as the mood on the train was tense with the presence of a derelict speaker. I switched cars and found she had done so ahead of me. I had seen her earlier, crossing the street, diagonally racing across the intersection. What is that called? Catty-Corner? Kitty-Corner? She moved very swiftly, in her familiar-to-me Adidas tennis shoes and carrying a NASA tote bag, perhaps a deliberate signal of her Floridian roots. I’m a fan of her stuff but do not intend to be a presence. I think she senses I am more than just a stooge on the subway but it doesn’t matter.
The new diner on 35th Avenue has been empty of customers the two times I passed, but that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t think it will last long as an all-day establishment. Not a good location for sit-down breakfast.
I’ve been watching with some discomfort an attempt at office romance between a dude I talk to a little bit and a woman who seems not to talk to anybody. It’s awkward.