For a fourth of July it's freezing. And while I know it's cold, cold enough to throw a little heat around the room by burning a few flames in the fireplace, it still hasn't occurred to me to get up and close the windows. Instead a cool damp breeze blows in through the curtains while I sit wrapped up in my daughter's zerba blanket throw writing down these words and ignoring my cell phone as it rings.
Ignoring it because I know it's my Dad and I know he can only be calling for one thing, to let me know that he's going to the gym and that he expects to see me there. And I've got to admit, for the last month or so I've let myself off of the strict regimen I've been holding myself to for over the past year. Tired may be as tired does, but not going is not going to get me any further from where I am. So I suppose I should motivate and do something besides shiver.
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