Morning

Five thirty A.M. and I snap out of sleep like a raw recruit snapping to attention. It's quiet as a ninja on the prowl and dark as the inside of a coma. The dogs, even, are stir-less. I slip around the room putting on this and that piece of clothing, comfortable as a blind man in the inky dark. I know this room. I have no plan, just the need to be up.

It is, miraculously, not raining. Rain as constant as a toothache has been our reality for several days, keeping us mostly indoors, book in hand and Scrabble board at the ready.

I weave through the dark to the kitchen where I punch the get-with-it button on the coffeemaker. I had prepared it for this moment the night before. It's got a timer, but I never use that because we have frequent power outages during the night and I would have to get up and reset it each time one occurred. Besides, I'm not in that big of a hurry. I've got a few chores to do while I wake up and work up a coffee jones. I put away dishes left in the dry rack from the day before and wash the few glasses soaking in the sink. I unlock and open the patio doors, folding the metal barred ones neatly back. I then do the same to the front door. The dogs are making a fuss now, so I let them out of their nighttime kennels. They're stretching, rolling around on the rug and wagging their tails, happy to see me. I greet each one with pats and pets and my own happy to see you too morning chuckles. I then give them a couple of handfuls of dried dog food - their main meal is in the late afternoon - followed by rawhide chewies to keep them busy. The coffee is now dripped and ready. I pour a cup and beeline to the office. It's still dark as a smoker's lungs, but I stab at our computer's on button and plop down on my exercise ball; the one my chiropractor has me sitting on in lieu of a chair. The monitor light has me glowing in the dark. I read awhile. It's the hottest year ever so far, Hilary is in Afghanistan, Sox win, Rocks lose and like that. I'm ready to write now. I pull up Monkeymind and stare at the screen. I have no idea what I am going to say.