My year still begins in September
My phone’s been ringing again. Nuthin steady, nuthin huge, a trickle, really. But it’s something. And after months of nuthin, something’s good.
It’s a bit odd, to be busy again with things for pure monetary exchange. The humdrum of work again.
But it’s a good thing; the cadence of waking up, making coffee – for two oftentimes – PB&J; or oatmeal, Good Morning America, and then…work?
Well, it’s hardly work yet. But it’s something.
Always said that my year begins in September. The rhythm of regularity. Am looking forward to it now more than in years.
It’s weird, to be excited for the coming monotony.
September 11th again. Has it been eight years already?
Someone told me that I dwell too much on it considering I wasn’t “affected.”
Didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. How can one explain what it’s like?
Location: same black chair; different room
Music: Got me affected, spun me 1-80 degrees