Write about something that is: out of focus.
Between helping Kat and the boys get out the door for music class, doing laundry, and getting firewood, this morning slipped past pretty quickly.
This afternoon I took a drive up to Penticton to stock up on groceries, which went as smoothly as could have been expected. Hopefully we've got enough meat in the freezer to get us most of the way through February.
Didn't have much time to work on my writing project but it still occupied a lot of mental space. I'll share more details once things get a little further along. For now I'll just say that my creative focus is on that, which makes coming up with prompts for the blog a little harder than usual.
I'm sure I'll manage though.
I always do.
As I stand up (why was I sitting down?) the world tilts and blurs, and my stomach lurches in response. I shake my head to try to clear the cobwebs and immediately wish that I hadn't. Where did this headache come from?
I close my eyes and try to breathe my way through this disorientation. The cold air hurts my throat (cold?) but I stick with it. My heart rate begins to settle into a more normal rhythm. I open my eyes to test my vision and... I'm sitting down again.
"Wha... ugh." It is an effort to not vomit. Thinking of the torture that would cause my already aching throat helps. I blink a few times. It doesn't help.
Everything is out of focus, like a photograph taken by an addict trying to quit cold turkey. The bright sunshine is not helping, nor is the contrast of the shadows lurking in menacing clusters around the edges of this... clearing?
Are those trees encircling me? They must be, but they don't look like anything I've seen before. Back home we just have pines and fruit trees and... back home. I'm not home. Clearly.
So where am I?