Greeting the Sun

I rolled out from under my nocturnal pile of three blankets, just as many pillows and two teddy bears. Somewhere between stumbling into the shower and boarding the train a jaunty spring slipped into my boots. If I wasn't worried about slipping on the damp pavement, I would dance down the street. I do have sympathy for my neighbourhood's other residents, so I try to limit the click of my heels.

What I love most about the morning is being able to watch the sun rise as I stand just inside the train doors. The sky is a milky gold and the scene illuminated by the glow is a bustling construction site; it's not exactly idyllic but it's my home.

December is Pause Month; everything takes a break and I permit myself plenty of inert moments. I want to bake piles of cookies, try some new cakes, knit until my room is bursting with colourful creations and read something that was not on a school book list. I will also write again, November is a trying month for university students here. I managed not to lose my mind but other things slipped to the side, but I go now to collect them.

There is plenty to look forward to, as there always is. A new project, discovering a new song or perhaps just doing much of the same but taking the time to enjoy it. I have enlisted my friends to kick me in the rear and force my to get my ears pierced - something I've been putting off out of fear for years. My theory is that if I tell enough people and then get it written here (if it's on the interweb then it's true, right?) I have no excuse to put it off.

It's time to get cozy, pull on some knee socks and throw myself headlong into winter. The sooner I accept the snow, the sooner I will be shooting headfirst down a hill on my trusty sled.

Welcome winter.