The Uphill Slide

There is always something.

Some Things Are The Same


I’m a school kid jumping out from underneath the covers of my squeaky iron bed. My bare feet hit the cold brown wood-pattern linoleum. I grabbed my clothes and dressed while standing on the floor register blowing warm air.

In the bedroom this morning I felt the chill on my exposed face as I laid in bed. I crawled out from underneath the covers; my bare feet slid out on beige carpet. I walked to the programmable thermostat that displayed 62° again. A temperature that can feel warm one day and cold the next. I pressed the up button until the display lighted 75°. Overcompensating for 62°.

I crawled back under the covers, tugged to pull them over my head, stuck in earphones, and waited.

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