The Thing

This thing required some preparation. Some time. This morning, I woke up with dread, because the thought of doing things is dreadful, sometimes. Not always, but this morning, it was, but not for very long, you see, because I knew it had to get done and that I was going to do it, today, this thing that is, that is very important.

I do not meditate. But if you were to walk into my room this morning without me knowing, you might have thought that I was meditating. You would have thought I was at one with peace, or well on my way. You would have thought, in the darkness of my room, because I rise before the sun, that I was chanting. But I was not. I was reviewing a list in my head out loud. Things that I'd need for this thing. Out loud because just in case there was someone in my room that I couldn't see, but wouldn't hurt me when I saw them, they could tell me what I said, but not really understand what I meant by these words. They would tell me because I would have forgotten what I was chanting when I started making out their silhouette, just started thinking that I would be killed, or robbed, not yet aware of their harmlessness. My heart beating fast and hard. That's what I think.

The thing is done. I did it before all things. And when I finished, I could not believe that I'd done it, that I was capable, that I'd pushed myself that far, the farthest I'd even been.

So the only thing left to do was take a nap, which I did. And then go to the library, which I did not.