Early-Morning Din

Composed on 5/28/12, approx. 4:30 am


   It's early morning. My window is closed, but the birdsong - the great early-morning din - still invades the room. I have a dull headache, and the inner corners of my eyes seem to itch. Seem, because I'm not sure what the feeling is there. My stomach growls, and the song changes, but suddenly Mosca's meows of greeting to Kenny startle me. The room is full of animals. Soon the dog will come, and then what? I'm besieged, and, really, it's my fault. Or, rather, my doing, for "fault" implies the situation isn't as it should be and that it'd be better if they (the animals) hadn't come to be with me at all. No. I sound like an unhappy, and unwilling father who didn't know what he got himself into. I should be championing their exceptional qualities, but it's just that those are too many to name, and, at heart, I'm really quite a lazy person. 


   Universally, laziness is a negative quality, right? Is there anyone who doesn't believe this? Maybe an Australian, for I read somewhere that Australia was the "laziest country" in the world - people can survive there just doing the bare minimum. Too bad they'd probably never accept me as a citizen. They have enough problems without adding more. Presumably. 


   Well. This meager endeavor isn't turning out as I'd wished. Now I'm really only trying to get to the end of the page. At least my humor seems to be intact. I tried to describe a tranquil scene, but I couldn't help using the word "din" because, you know, that's what it's like during these hours. Those stupid birds just remind you that you're not sleeping, that you haven't slept, that it'll catch up with you, and you might collapse during the day tomorrow when you're supposed to be doing something productive, something un-lazy. Good thing our un-lazy country is observing Memorial Day tomorrow. Today. Maybe I'll start a blog today.