September 12, 2013

I should tire of opening entries with “Dark, silent,” but that is what this time before morning is, and I cherish it.  Yesterday morning I wrote at the computer, went to the Y and had one of the best weight sessions ever, went to Starbucks and wrote a poem on the terrace with the traffic passing, and it was still dark, then painted at the studio, then came back and scrubbed down DJ’s terrace for restoration, and it was not yet noon. I have a whole day before many are fully awake. Had a massage from Zach, and a curious thing happened. The toxins from the phlebitis must have been lodged in my body, and when he massaged me they were released, and I was sick and feverish throughout most of the afternoon. It ebbed away, but I was still too spent for drinks after choir, as is the usual.

Circe makes tiny contentment noises jammed up against the keyboard beside me.