Ice

It's everywhere. It's gorgeous. It's treacherous. It's brought tree limbs down all over my neighborhood, and brought an unexpected visitor to my door -- my landlord's uncle, who came with a chain saw (to deal with the fallen branches) and news about my house and my landlord, more food for thought.

So I'm dealing with a surfeit of options right now. It's almost as exasperating as having too few.

After he left, I wandered the spacier side of the web for awhile, wondering if some cosmic happening was fooling with the space time continuum and messing with my serenity.

And then I thought: It's the ice. It's making everything surreal. The creaking of the neighborhood trees that sounds like a haunting from overhead, the deceptive pavement that looks dry but is in fact frozen and slick as, well, ice...

Things are not as they seem.
Tea, I say. Tea and meditation. Or tea and a good book. Sometimes the best course of action is no action at all: just sit tight and see what the thaw brings.