For some reason the powers that control such matters determined that I needed to wake up at 2:45 a.m. today. I usually don’t make much effort to resist such things. After all, arising in the middle of the night is not without its benefits. It’s right now 5:22 and I’ve already cleaned my bathroom and my kitchen, showered, lubricated, made coffee and breakfast and lunch and taken out the trash. Well, relocated the trash to the back porch, which these days serves as taking it out.
Last week was kind of a bad one, not for any particular reason. The world just seemed against me. And while some people might not think that discovering an error in one’s just-filed income taxes resulting in $1700 dollars extra or being trapped in one’s coat, sweating bullets, for 15 minutes owing to a stuck zipper are the worst things that can happen™, the tiny moments of panic were not entirely welcomed. I go through these cycles of feeling as if everyone is making demands on me. Said demands are not always unreasonable, though I generally feel they are of the variety that I rarely enact on anyone else. This early Monday morning finds my inbox with a horoscope assuring me that this most recent influx of onerousness is not a permanent condition. If only the universe would somehow tell these people to go away without me having to do so myself, everything would be a-okay.
This morning near the intersection of North Avenue and Clybourn I witnessed a rare and wondrous sight. Yes, it was the breast cancer awareness street sweeper. Pink in color with a large ribbon graphic on the front, it really was something to behold. Chicago, the city that doesn’t recycle yet cleans the gutters with purpose.
