Fatigue wraps its fog around my mind as I trudge my way into an other Monday. Yesterday was a good day. Last night was a short night. This morning came early, sliding sideways down my hill in 4-wheel-drive, on my way to a friend's surgery. He did well.
The morning is gray and dense. Trees and the hills in the distance are merely suggestions, hints that their shaded outlines have material reality. My mind is a similar a fog. I know I'll wake up somewhat tomorrow--a Tuesday tradition. But while I plod along in this misty place, and still try in vain to prepare for Christmas Eve services and the Sunday to come; I'll hold memories of the laughter last evening while gathered around our living room with friends. And I'll grin in the grayness.