The passage of time

I am up. It feels late though I know it really isn't. I have spent about two hours stitching and gabbing with meranthi while watching Shrek.

That was nearly 20 minutes ago. Where does the time go?

I folded laundry (it has been sitting in the basement for about three days) and brought it up, and I put The Book next to my bed so I can finish reading Chapter 3.2 before going to bed. I even went to the living room to get my writing book and my good pen so I can write another page or two (or three or four) before going to bed as well.

There are days when it seems that the smallest tasks take the longest amount of time, and before you know it the day is gone and it is only the lonesome night. It surrounds and consumes and you wait, timid, for the breaking of the day.

And instead of going to bed and being blissfully unaware of all this, I am up. But at least a bit more of next year's Christmas presents are done.