Something Borrowed

Well, well, well. Here we come to another week. I must admit, the thought of posting to my blog leaves me feeling rather drained. But then, so does the thought of… moving… or working out… or anything that requires more than a minimal amount of energy. For some reason, lately sleep has NOT been my friend. It could be the result of several years of simply terrible sleep patterns, but I really prefer not to delve too much into that theory.
I woke up this morning, and my first thought was, “What do I have to do today? What? Nothing? Really?” Enter: Big Smile and Happy Plans. This week has been busier than normal, or maybe I just accomplished more than normal. Monday: Rachel’s house. Tuesday: Early-ish Morning coffee, piano stuff, shopping interlude, book stuff, friends and frozen yoghurt. Wednesday: All day long party. Issaquah, Snoqualmie Falls, Closet-fixing, movies, driving and loud music. Thursday: Getting Things Done. Dinner with people. Excellent. Today was simply a day of “whatever I wants” after getting the important stuff done. Rather nice and leisurely. Now I’m settled with a lovely VENTI!!!!!!! (thank you starbucks for acknowledging my existence and birthday) caramel macchiato, and think it should round out the evening quite nicely, especially when followed by an hour or so of piano. The immaculate vanilla candle scented room waiting for me adds yet another aspect of cheerfulness. (Another thing we won’t explore is my previous stupidity with said  jar candle. Suffice it to say it burned all night… we won’t say where, lest it expose me to unnecessary ridicule.)  And, since I’m feeling cheerful on this cloudy day, I have to put up a poem that I once had memorized but has since escaped me. Thank goodness for google. (and Longfellow)
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The Rainy Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882)

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.