Sharkey's Day
Running outside first thing in the morning is the most disgusting, horrible thing I can imagine.
I hate it more than I can express in phrases that don't contain fist shaking and spitting.
Even at 6:30 it is hot. Well, not hot, but *wet*...the air is opaque, and I begin sweating immediately. I wander through the back parts of Georgetown and Foxhall and every minute seems like five. Time? Relative.
I make my way to one of the wooded parks hidden around this area - ill kempt and overgrown - and I pause at the entrance to wonder: "Is 0630 very early Sunday, or very late Saturday?" Perhaps the park denizens will reveal which.
Again, time: human made, human watched, human defined. It's relative and mutable according to our whims and perspectives. But we knew that.
I hate it more than I can express in phrases that don't contain fist shaking and spitting.
Even at 6:30 it is hot. Well, not hot, but *wet*...the air is opaque, and I begin sweating immediately. I wander through the back parts of Georgetown and Foxhall and every minute seems like five. Time? Relative.
I make my way to one of the wooded parks hidden around this area - ill kempt and overgrown - and I pause at the entrance to wonder: "Is 0630 very early Sunday, or very late Saturday?" Perhaps the park denizens will reveal which.
Again, time: human made, human watched, human defined. It's relative and mutable according to our whims and perspectives. But we knew that.
posted by shagreen at 7:11 AM
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