The weather report for my area says it’s raining right now. Of course it isn’t, but it might as well be. At midnight with the curtains blowing and the electricity building in the air --- oh yeah, my bones say it’s a storm, but either a small one or still far away.
In either case, it’s cold enough for a sweater, and the little heater by my feet is on. I’m espresso-level awake, though I haven’t had caffeine since this morning.
But you know what? It’s a glorious mood. There’s recklessness reminiscent of adolescent excess. Ha. Say that five times fast. Still, it’s true. In this mood, decades past, I once began a road trip at 2 a.m. just because there was nothing else to do. I started my first novel on my beat up old electric typewriter that had a broken “o” key so I used zeros instead and had the first three chapters written by dawn. I knew that my favorite vanilla crullers came out of the oven at V-G’s Donut Shop in Encinitas at 4:00 a.m.
The unreality bestowed by hour and weather brings credulity, the belief that the unlikely isn’t just possible, it’s a good idea.
All of that was a very long time ago. Now I know that tomorrow will start in eight hours whether I’m ready or not. Age may bring wisdom, but it’s a hell of a lot less fun. And I really miss those crullers.
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2 comments:
Wonderful post. It really the captured the feeling of those special middle of the night moments. I can so relate. Why do I no longer get a notion to just get up and go on a whim. Now that m business is changing maybe I will have the time/freedom to start doing that again. Want to come along?
Heh, I'd say "yes" but it would only be true theoretically. ;) But please send me a postcard!
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