Choices that seem easy in the light of day take on a new shape at such a late hour. Sleep or conversation? Sleep or nurishment? Sleep or endless thoughts that take on a life of their own? In the morning it will all seem so much clearer, but for now it all muddles together to make a single formless presence. A weight that seems to rest on your chest making you question if you’re doing the right thing.
You’ve come this far. You’re committed. The only thing to do now is to carry on as if everything up until now has been normal. So you fill the pot with water and set it on the hot burner. Wait until you see it start to boil then add the salt and some of the dry pasta. Wait some more. You’re already used to that part. It’s still not ready. Just a few more minutes and… You waited too long! Quick grab it off the stove and shove the pot under cool water so that you can hopefully save the noodles from over cooking. Drain, pour, season. Taste? It’s a bit off. Some salt and a bit if black pepper. Not bad. It’s late and it’s not even worth leaving the kitchen as you spoon the contents of the bowl into your mouth.
Why do the choices feel so different? Is it the pull of the moon? Is it the way the wind pushes around the trees out side the window? Maybe in the morning they’ll feel like the correct ones, but for now all you feel is drained. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow is a new day after all. Well, once you think about it, it’s already tomorrow.