1 May

Life is just better when its warmer. Take for instance, last night, when I got in an hour hike with the dog and a good friend in the woods as the sun went down, and our promises to go to bed early were juiced like so many limes in our tequila and tonics.

When it’s warm, you can open all the windows and get a nice breeze going through the house at night. Then the neighbors can hear you getting louder and louder at the hours pass (the ones you were supposed to sleep through). I like the way Friday nights feel consequence-less — whatever you do, you’ve got days and days to recover or be constructive. Friday nights are like the first day of a vacation — you’re so excited to finally be there, and you’re wound up for all the potential.

The house to our left is empty, and the one to the east is occupied by two friends who might otherwise have joined us, if they didn’t work all the time. They complain about how old they are, and how they go to bed too early. I like to think must have particularly enjoy the singing that took place after midnight as we auditioned songs for Billy’s next gig (no consensus was reached, and Billy informed me <a href="

“>this was far too difficult to sing and play drums to at the same time. So I think he’s maybe going with some Green Day? It’s kind of a really loud blur).

Point being, I know I’ve been so reticent lately. I used to be so outgoing, and I think most people still see me as being that way, but I feel like there’s a lot going on in my head I’m not articulating, lot of experiences I’m not sharing. I worried I was turning into something blue, but now I believe it was just winter sucking my will to live. I’m just glad to feel the sun as it should feel — warm on me.

The sun and all the green bursting out of every bit of soil and branch just has me high.

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