It's 5:50 a.m. and I am awake, drinking coffee in my kitchen. The ice is so loud this morning that I can hear it inside. It's -14C. The ice becomes louder as the temperature drops.
The Christmas tree glows behind me and the coffee maker continues on it's annoying tick, tick, tiiiick that I only seem to hear when no one else is up. Time is ticking, too. It's now 5:53 and I wait. This morning I am waiting for the phone to ring - hoping that I will be called to teach. Supply teacher worries.
I haven't written in six months. It's not because I haven't had anything to say, and it's not because I have been too busy. I don't know. My attention is divided, I suppose. Time slips away and while I am constantly filled with words, I often struggle to let them out.
This morning I was moved to pick up a pencil and put it to paper, which is the way I used to start all of my writing. A simple pencil and paper. And with that, Clare is stirring and my time here is done. 5:57 a.m.