In spite of my rock solid motivations, and the rising tides of guilt, I am having a really hard time crawling out into this cold morning to get to the gym, as I was so determined to do.
Outside, a muffled, metallic scraping of plow blade on snowy street is my only indication that it is morning. (There are no alarm clocks this week).
I weigh my options: virtue vs. a few more minutes under these thick layers, against a warm body, in the middle of winter when all I want is to satisfy some primeval craving for the enveloping darkness and a moment of stillness.
(Virtue loses, again!)
When I will finally crawl out into the blue light of morning, it will be toward a pot of steaming black coffee and a frosted-window view of a deep and silent season.
Enjoy these dark days. They won't last.
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