Change? Routine...ah that's better

I opened my dirty curtains this morning. Those curtains have framed some of the most amazing mornings, evening and afternoons. This morning they framed a cold dull blueish garden with a thick dusting of clear white snow. It was very special as I realised that I didn't have to wait at that horrible train platform to get to work. (More of trains and train poems later - they are a big part of my working life.)

I was excited, so much so that I couldn't get back into bed. I ran down stairs at once, like a child n Christmas Day, but, instead of piles of presents, I just found a yoghurt in the fridge and boiled the milk for my cereal.

Life, at the moment, is all routine. To borrow the words from the Cartwright classic, Road, "I just wish something different would happen for a change."

It's not as if I HATE my life. Hate is a strong word and, although I may use it frequently, I very rarely mean it. My parents are laboriously boring at times and I just get so fed up with how I know they'll react. Waves of negativity fill my optimistic bedroom most mornings.

Yours, respectfully, J D