a first of many blessings

It seems odd to me that such a wave of gratitude could come from such negativity. Although considering I am who I am, an avatar of contradiction, it also seems fitting that the more others despair, the more sure I am that we will all remain human till the very end.

I was sitting in the parking lot at work, clocked out, enjoying the cool and the dark and the excitable tones of my favorite Friday night tech podcast. Then, less excitable: the world is really going through it right now, huh. Yeah, the other one agreed. And I heard in their voices the same thing I feel from time to time in my heart: I am only one, and I am so very small, and in the face off all That, all I can do is wait, and try not to forget that there was a time when I could watch the news.

But, as their voices disappeared again until almost exactly one week from now, as I drove home in the cool and the dark, I felt in my heart another thing I feel from time to time.

The wind is in my hair. My car will get me home. The fries from the drive-through are so salty they burn my tongue, and I'm delighted to realize I didn't have to think about how much they cost. My knee aches only softly. I'm starting to think that maybe I can make my work livable again. Or maybe even good. Good, actually, I've decided, thank you. I realized today that Journey is my favorite video game, because it was the first time I understood that games can be art, and what it meant to end where you began, looking the same, but changed in every strand of hair and shard of bone.

The feeling is fading now, sitting in my chair at my computer, but not unwillingly, fading like breath, in, out, in, out.

I am tired, now, and my back is reminding me that it needs meds, please, a full dose tonight, and plenty of stretching before I can even think of bed. The fries are long gone. My apartment is too hot. And still, like sweet breath, in, out, in, out.

I will sleep well tonight, I think.