Elongated Dawn

(Sidenote: I just found this saved among my blogs, unpublished. I don't know when I wrote it or how long it has been sitting there, unread, unpublished, unfinished -- I'm guessing years -- but despite being incomplete, I still like the thought, so I'm publishing it now.)

Come 2 in the afternoon, dawn still clings to the cloud-cloaked sky. I see no hint of blue on the edges of the horizon. I feel no hope that the drizzle will cease. This morning, my half-night's rest was slowly replaced by a growing consciousness of the dim-light of daybreak. But an hour later, the same ungrown light lingered behind my window curtains and I realized this day would never fully bloom. Despite the unmistakable signs that this day was best experienced as a curl-on-the-couch-with-hot-cocoa day, I packed a lunch and trudged through the puddles. I dutifully took notes in class. I remained on campus and re-established connection with my social networks
unrelenting>
I am looking forward to folding clothes in my dimly-lit and darkly furnished living room. No company but the television broadcasting a DVD I've seen twenty too many times. A cup of hot chocolate losing its warmth because I enjoy the idea of hot chocolate on a rainy day more than I enjoy the sweet taste./
How odd that while the world around me seems asleep and when my own actions feel surreal, I feel energized by a quiet but strong current of empowerment.