Sometimes, little do you know when you wake up that it’s going to be that kind of day. Charged. Raw. Emotional.
Not that you could have done things differently. It’s almost as if some force put you on a track with emotional charges along the way and all you can do is sit back and watch the hits happen. Bang! And again! And again!
By early afternoon much of the ride was over and done. I had just one more class and then I could exhale.
In my office, I turn off the lights (or, the switch that allows the lights to come on as I move around) and look out.
There is a sudden squall of snow. Big, wet snow – the kind that’s very very pretty to watch and less fun if you’re outside in it, unprotected. Call it emotional snow.
Maybe it can wash off the debris from the day...
I continue to work. I have a dinner meeting later on State Street and there is no reason to rush in the hours before it. Dusk morphs into evening time. I am indifferent to it. I'm spent by the earlier hours.
Outside, the air is colder than I would have wanted for an evening walk.
So what. It’s the tail end of the day. The tail end of winter. The tail end of an uncomfortable season.
I walk up the stairs to Fresco, the place of the dinner meeting and I look out on one of the most interesting views in Madison: the intersection of streets makes it appear as if you are on the crossroads of some great event about to happen.
Maybe you could say that the great event was the delicious, fresh and honest food at Fresco. On the other hand, maybe you could say that the great event was that there would be no more great events, no great swishes of emotion for the remainder of the day.