It's one of those mornings where it's not as early, clock-wise, as it seems.
We've had a rain, apparently recently ended. The sky is still mostly gray with clouds, with just slivers of silver trying to break through in the east.
I've just had to go out to the garage to grab an armful of clothes out of the dryer, hoping that I've scooped up at least one outfit in the bunch that I can wear to work in a few minutes.
To get to the garage I have to go out the back door of my kitchen, across the screened-in back porch.
This morning the air is so cool and so fresh from the rain that I just want to stay on the back porch and absorb this fresh beginning like a sponge. My spirit needs to soak this up. I'm going through a dry patch -- wrung out and growing a bit crunchy.
Part of me so wants to call in to work to say I'll either be late or I won't be in at all... but what would that call sound like?
"Sorry boss, can't make it in today. No, I'm not exactly sick. I'm just calling in rainy. See you when it's nasty hot again."
Meh. I've heard worse excuses when I was the one people called in to.
And now, I'm off to check that pile of laundry and find out what I'll be wearing today. Here's hoping you found matching socks today.