My head feels a size too small, like everything inside is the same but the wrapper has shrunk. Pressure behind my eyes, at my temples, even at my jaw line. The world is a little too bright, even though it’s overcast outside, and the intermittent rain just fits my mood.
I’m sipping coffee, infusing a little caffeine, and staying quiet until I see which way this thing is going to go. The house is blessedly quiet, I don’t have anything I really need to do until later, and I need to take it a little easy. Trumpet practicing might have to wait until this afternoon, and I need to be sharp for a rehearsal this evening. That may be a bit much to ask.
I’m not really good at these days. If I have to lay around, I’d much rather do it on a beach in the warm sun with a cold drink in my hand, sound of the waves in my ears. If I have to keep my eyes closed, I’d rather be asleep or in a dark concert hall, listening to a lush performance. If I have to move slowly and carefully, I’d rather have it be because a baby is sleeping or I’m on a heeling boat, cutting through the water.
In fact, there’s a lot of things I’d rather be doing. If I’m going to have a headache all day, at least I should have had a wild party the night before.