The tight feeling in a certain spot on my chest tells me that my asthma protests my careless treatment of my body this week. Four trial settings: one continuance, two settlements, one set for 9:00 a.m. this morning. Another brutal week. Laundry still not done. Clutter growing around me. Fridge still nearly empty despite another stop-gap run to the grocery.
I sit down with my cell phone and scroll through the pictures which I took in California. I’m nowhere near retirement yet that ocean calls to me. A longing for some simpler life, perhaps; to live where serene smiles spread across every face as the sun hits the water. I look back to my twelve days in California with a tinge of sorrow wrapped around a kernel of hope. Whether my heart cries for something new or something as old as my soul, I cannot say. I hear the dog talking to the air outside. I understand the drive behind her cry for something she knows but cannot see or find.
It’s the thirtieth day of the thirty-third month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.