I walked out the back door into the hazy mist and made my way to Button. (My little Honda Civic, for those of you who just thought, “Button?”.) I’ve walked out that same door every afternoon for almost four years now and normally I’m captivated by the sounds of high pitched squeals and laughs from down the slope. Today, they didn’t even draw my attention. I can’t even tell you if they were outside. I normally speak to everyone I pass by on the sidewalk, but today I can’t tell you if I even passed anyone.
I made my way home and tried curling up with a really good book that I’m incredibly close to finishing, but gave up after reading the same paragraph about five times and still not having a clue what I had just read. My mind kept wandering to the same place, but it wasn’t the author’s point.
My phone rang multiple times, each time with people that I normally love talking to. Today, I struggled to get through short conversations. There’s only one conversation that I could seem to think about, but it never seems to happen.
Like the hazy mist that I stepped out into this afternoon is my mind this week…