The Wind Chills of Change

Creeping my eyes open, my mind fills with shades of warm yellows and oranges. My vision fills with cool dark colors of blues and blacks. The blankets wrap around my body, hugging me throughout the night. The buzzing from the street light outside keeps my mind running, even while the sun starts to rise over the treetops. The congested heavy breathing coming from next to me in bed slowly but surely moves to snoring by the end of the hour.

The bright blue light of my phone alarm and the sound of a rhythmic jingle that is supposed to soothe me awake turn on blinding the senses. The sharp noises mixed with the bright light send my brain into a sudden frenzy. My urgency turns into annoyance as I stumble around the nightstand to turn the alarm off.

Laying there exhausted of all options I stop to stare at the ceiling. When all else fails I force myself up against my will. Slouched on the side of my bed, rubbing my eyes of the lingering sleep glued into the creases of my eyelids. With a stretch and a pull into what can only be described as good enough to start the morning, I start getting up. Little did I know this would be different. Like all things in life, it’ll be a mystery until it’s too late.

Drip...

Splash...

Drop...

The boiling water from the decaying shower head made the most repetitive beat. It changed with my monotonous movements. The stuff that’s basically embedded into my brain and daily life. The splashes of color for my ears, this and that, here and there, make the senses dance. It changes my routine, it's making it better.

My muscles loosen and ready themselves. The creaking of my bones, the squeaking of my joints only release their tight grip. Relief is refreshing and one of the few blessings I have in my morning. Lathering, bubbling, straightening, smoothing, and cleaning my long hair letting the bubbles drip down my back. My feet slide around over the slippery tiles. Clenching my eyes shut while the streams of thin clear lava fall over me.

It was time. Time to leave my tropical paradise of a shower. It was time to step into the arctic fields of the rest of the bathroom. I reach for my towel after turning off the heat and flinching to the sudden gust of cold air falling to my feet. The steam pushed it up only for it to fall to the ground once sliding past the warm air.

Using the worn towel to wrap around my body, I made a shield for myself. A shield to block the cold. Of course, it wasn't enough. It never has been and it never will be. My skin starts to rise with goosebumps and spiked hairs that cover my body. Shaking my water-soaked hair, drying it off with my disheveled dingy towel. This was going to be a good day, so I better start it off right.

Spending what some would call too much time searching for the perfect outfit to wear, I finally settled on something. It wasn't supposed to be too hot today, so shorts were definitely not an option. It looked like possible rain towards the evening, so maybe let's bring a jacket.

The feeling of one thousand brush strokes for my hair feels euphoric and tiresome. The habitual pattern of my cleanliness and my hygiene has become so repetitively mundane throughout these years. Skin, teeth, ears, nose, eyes. When you look at it as the big picture then you'll notice the slow sluggish process just to keep yourself functional.

Step by step, piece by piece. I'm working for a better me for a better tomorrow.