Peaceful Wednesday Mornin'

In the spirit of Grace's cheery version of "Good mornin'" from Singing in the Rain, which goes, "Good mornin', Good mornin', its nice to wake up late" instead of "stay up late" which would have instead made me rather irritated in the morning, I see and relish the difference of having spent a decently refreshing time asleep - albeit, only half an hour earlier to bed. That song is just perfect for bringing a smile to my face and kicking up my feet too :)

Regardless, I find myself in good spirits despite the constant rainfall outside. The house is quiet except for the gentle rainfall. I felt so good I even rearranged the dishes in the cabinet, haha :) which were a mishmosh of sizes of plates stacked on bowls and tupperware in non-matching sets. The fish for tonight's dinner is defrosting, and I've actually gotten reading done, so I can safely say I just might have a good Wednesday. Its the first week since we've started back in classes that I'm having night lab. (I kept switching it from Wednesday night to Friday morning and back.) so, the day will be a little longer but at least it won't be yesterday - I've never had a lecture before until now that I just can't stand to sit through. My mind wanders incessantly in that lecture though I struggle to leash it back in. A lot of the 80 students just stopped coming. While the textbook is voluminous in reading assignments, it is by far easier to understand than the lecture, which covers only a small percentage of the reading. And, I don't even like textbooks. Then falling asleep in the computer lab while doing the most tedious physics prelab (involving moving my cursor on the simulation over every single point on the screen to locate similar readings, for 8 separate readings) and then finishing up the physics p-set due last night that I actually started way ahead of time. Yuck. So, thank you Lord Jesus for a fresh start today.

Perhaps I'll satisfy that craving for good tea this morning...

Stay warm and dry.

raindrop

Gently falling,
on the way
I see barren trees bowing deep,
branches reaching down to
umbrellas fanned out wide
carefully
treading sidewalks side-by-side,
cars spraying slush and
schoolchildren splashing
outfits just been through the wash,
everyone trying to get through
from one indoors to another, so too
the tops of buildings sternly guard
people at their desks
in front of flickering screens
sipping coffee
with their blinds
pulled shut in sight of me.
Through my rounded form
I am strangely still the lens through which you see,
the poet musing, singing
"Boston must wake, yes, in spite of thee"
a solitary raindrop,
slipping between breaths of air and falling free.