Something completely normal...

It's in the very early hours of the morning and I feel like writing about very ordinary things, although I don't know how many ordinary things I have in me to write about. I want to get one thing out of the way first: that theory about me being up in the middle of the night because of my mother's murder? I am dismissing that whole idea right now and I'm not going to pursue it. Pretend I never even brought it up and that it has remained unmentioned, because I was on the wrong track. It was a misguided attempt at trying to find an explanation for a problem, but I think it is not the right one. I probably am not going to bring it up again.

Now, on to ordinary things. That's a little bit harder than I assumed it would be, because I have to take a whole different direction in my head. I will start with the fact that I'm sitting here with a glass of cold milk, but that I'm going to switch to coffee in a little while because I think I need it in order to function better. I was very thirsty, that's why I'm drinking the milk, but it doesn't do much for my spirit. It's too bad that cow milk does not have a magic uplifting ingredient like coffee does. It's so benign.

I've switched to a nice mug of coffee and I should feel the benefits of that quickly. Before you know it, I will be a perfectly well functioning human being. I won't have to fake it like I was doing up to now.

I have to decide which clothes I'm going to wear today and all I can think is that they need to be warm, so I must wear layers. There's a great desire to keep wearing the knitted black cardigan, but a body does want some variation once in a while, so I'll go to my closet and see what jumps out at me. I'm not depressed yet if I care about what I look like and I feel like wearing something bright, which is a good sign. The more colorful I am, the cheerier I am, or at least I'm making that effort.

I'm very glad that today is Friday, which is a day that I consider to be the serious run up to the weekend. The weekend starts for me at 2:30 this afternoon. That's when the domestic help leaves and when I'll have a clean apartment all to myself and hardly any obligations beside the usual chores that always need to get done. I do look forward to the somewhat unstructured days and the empty hours that I can fill as I please. I'm out of the pressure cooker, which my psychiatrist says I always live in.

The Exfactor is coming by today and I made sure that he knew not to come by when my personal helper is here, because he always forgets about that and shows up at the wrong time. It's just a little bit awkward to have them here at the same time, although he's always welcome for a cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee, I have the bottle of vinegar ready on the kitchen counter to run through the machine, because when I ask for 6 cups it only gives me 5, so I think it is time to clean it. I have had the coffee maker longer than a month and that is how often they recommend that you clean it when you have hard water.

It is because of all the limestone in the region that our water is so hard. There are whole cave systems in the hills where you can have guided tours, but many unofficial ones too where people can get lost and not find their way out. It's kind of a sport to go into them with a torch. Every once in a while a road sinks into a cave because the rainwater has worn away the roof of it. And remember, we call a hill a mountain. You would too if the rest of your country was flat and below sea level. When I was a child, there was a place in the forest where there were a few hilly sand dunes and we called this place 'Little Switzerland.' We were used to so little, there were even postcards of it.

Imagine my surprise when I was 15 and went to the Black Forest in the south of Germany and saw mountains for the first time. I immediately felt at home there and didn't want to leave. I felt like I belonged there and wanted to stay forever. We traveled all around the region and it was beautiful. I cried when we had to go home again. I saw those flat Dutch meadows of the north with their wet ditches and thought it was the most ugly place in the world. My heart was broken. I found out much later that the Black Forest was where some of my ancestors came from. It was in my genes.

I have an hour and a half left to go until dawn. The day is not creeping up on me yet, but soon will be. I'm feeling the restlessness of it already and have just taken my medicines and they should work shortly. I have to try and decide how long I'm going to sit here in my bathrobe, but I guess that's really up to Tyke and his early morning wishes. He's still asleep now, but soon enough he'll come to his senses and let me know that it's time to go out. I have to time my shower before or after.

Actually, there aren't any hard rules and I can plan it any way I wish, so I shouldn't fret ahead of time, but just let the scenario unfold as it will. I have to start thinking outside of the box more often. I do wish that would come more naturally to me instead of wearing it like a foreign costume. I'm an overanxious planner and worrier when I should be more carefree. I do have lots of opportunities to be it.

Allez, that's enough of that. I'm off to prepare myself for the day. I'll raid the closet first. I've got to find my denim mini skirt so I can alluringly show off my legs in their leggings. Yeah, right! Some people will do anything to get attention.

Have a good day!

Ciao,
Nora