The house is cold again, today like yesterday and the day before. I won't turn the heat on.
An hour at the market and at the end of it the fear of not being able to pay. Electrical glitch last week, expected money absent all weekend. I packed the cold things together in case my card didn't work. Crossed fingers. It did.
Leeks from Friday at Appleton Farm and potatoes from last week's sale on the stove. Everything I do gets quickly undone and I do it again. All day this way. Clean up the blocks. Sweep the floor. Fold laundry. Repeat.
I'm listening to songs I shouldn't bother listening to. They fit the futility of the day. Only recently familiar and already like old friends.
The sheets are in the wash. This is recycling week. The soup on the stove is warming the kitchen a little and there's coffee almost ready to drink. I might slip away and ignore the whole thing.
If you think I'm crying for you today you are less than half right.