Thursday

Thursdays are good days. They always have been. I love the anticipation. On Thursday evening, they usually play the funniest shows, nowadays I am usually on my way to somewhere new, and the entire weekend is right around the corner. By the time Friday morning comes, sometimes I feel like I've already spent all of my excitement; each minute ticking by is one less ounce of weekend. But on Thursdays, there is always something to look forward to.
This morning I got up early to run...I've been doing this lately for a few reasons 1. to make room for more German cake 2. to see a different view of the world 3. i love early mornings. The tale end of darkness has such an effect on my mood. A dreary December sky is just black before the sun has a chance to point out its bleakness. The gradual changes in light, each moment a little brighter, each step a little lighter bring a feeling of hope to my soul. The feeling of starting off into darkness and ending in a dull, gray light, silent except for wind, is something only a morning can give you. Its' as good as a good long stretch before getting out of bed. My mind breathes deeply as my lungs fill with the sharp morning oxygen.
There is something sacred about mornings, too. Universal I might dare to say. Sleepy eyes, bad breath, scratchy voices...all of these things make me feel so human (Although, now that I think about it, Annie the dog usually had some pretty serious bags if she was awoken before her desired hour). And at the breakfast table, even 9 year olds are usually quite subdued (comparatively). Sitting around the table, silently munching on good bread with home-made jam, the only language anyone speaks before the sun rises is tiredness. It's a comprehensive language and culture. The morning culture. Running past lovers saying good bye before work or a trip, I see only sleepy hugs and baggy eyes whispering sweet nothings, as to not disturb the holy silence before the bird's first chirp. Morning quiet in Germany. There are dog walkers, trash collectors, lone wolves--each one with a head full of fresh thoughts for the day, or memories of turbulent dreams that may have aroused them at such an early hour. An ungodly hour? How about a humanly hour. Where my human-ness, my Menschlichkeit, shines like a morning star.
So I sit here in my red couch, looking out into the frosty sky with a cup of coffee in my hands. I am excited for the day: another pumpkin pie presentation for the 11th graders this time. I am about sick of pumpkin pie...The sun has already risen, but the sky is still a dull gray. Maybe later the clouds will part and let that big ole star show off a little bit.