The Beginning
But of what?
It is 11:45 pm when you feel the uncontrollable urge to stand up.
Out of bed? Out of your chair? Off of the couch?
Yes.
You know the protocols. You've practiced them dozens of times. Usually successfully.
It is 11:46 when you throw on a sweater that is almost comically oversized. Maybe very comically oversized with the right percentage of limonene.
It's 11:48 when you pour yourself a fresh glass of water.
11:49 when you find the candle.
You leave the kitchen and scurry back to your bed or chair or couch. You can't help but feel a little bit like a woodland critter that just scampered out of its den to forage for resources before quickly returning to safety. A blanket. An emotional support water bottle. One of your favorite soundtracks for a late-night lesson. Life is good at 11:51 pm.
At 11:54 you return from your second trip to the kitchen. You forgot the lighter, and while there are others that one was your favorite. While you were there you added a can of ginger ale to your cache. Sure, it's the dead of night in the dead of winter. A chilly Tuesday evening with 7 inches of snow on the ground. Even so...hibernating critters deserve treats, too.
It's 11:58 when you finally feel better. Still pissed, though. The front page of Politico looks like they got hacked by The Onion. But that's just every day now.
You've gotten better at conquering the aversive stimuli. Not great, necessarily. But better. We're all just doing our best anyway, right?
You take a breath. Then another. A third.
The aroma of bergamot and (somehow) flannel fill the room. One of your favorite albums of all time fills your ears. The headphones are sound-cancelling, too!
The winds outside your window are roaring. An arctic blast is blanketing the nation with freezing temperatures and wind chills, even taking some areas in places like Florida down to 20 degrees. And people still don't think that when you fight with nature sometimes it decides to fight back. Idiots.
11:59 pm. Almost exactly a minute until there is but one day left in the year. One more day. Just one more day.
And here you sit, steadying yourself against what you know will be a year that brings raging storms, both literal and metaphorical, unlike any that you or many people you know have seen in their lifetimes.
One more deep breath.
At midnight, you type the first words that appear on your screen...
”It is 11:45 pm when you feel the uncontrollable urge to stand up."
