becca starkes

lounging by the open window
an unseasonably warm breeze
blows in the scent of cigarette smoke
and I think about what this place must have been
in the 70s
(a lot yellower and smokier)

the cheerful sunlight in the room
and the warm air on my skin
offer a chance to thaw from the winter cold
but all I can think about
is when all this will end
(when will this end?)
and when the rest of my life will begin.

“use your energy wisely”
says the letterboard hanging in my office
is this a wise use of my energy?
of my time?
of this one life I have?
I’m not sure.
but then, what’s the alternative? 
I was never much of a risk taker.

maybe that’s the biggest risk of all.

I should be working
but instead
I’m sitting on this old futon —
faded from years of southern sunlight
beaming through open windows of the past —
thinking about how I don’t want to.

not in a couch-potato sort of way —
though I do like laying on the couch
snuggling with my cat
(she’s the best)
hiding from the world under a fuzzy blanket
for hours —

more in a
I’m-so-over-this
isn’t-there-more
why-haven’t-I-quit-yet
sort of way.

in other words
just a regular wednesday.