So, I was gearing up to change one part of my life when some other part turned on its head when I was not quite watching.
That happens sometimes, I guess: That you are preparing – girding – for a change that you see coming or are actively working towards and then, right behind you, the fundamentals of some other bit of your world shifts.
For instance, I, for the first time in my working life, now find myself with evenings. I had always known they existed outside my office walls, in the lives of other people. But never in mine. Quite like a car, perhaps. Or a younger sibling.
It’s not that I missed them. But now that I have suddenly been handed over half-a-dozen of them every week, I am quite at a loss about what to do with them.
I have also reaffirmed my belief that mornings can be languid. The rest of the day has enough shit in it, so must we begin the day with our hearts thumping and the arteries swelling up?
(On a related note, I think early mornings are highly overrated. Waking up early does have its advantages, but its virtues have been glorified for no justifiable reason.)

But it’s good, this jolting of the bolts. Reminds me they are not ready to get rusty, just yet.