Since I Am Awake

I woke up this morning, sort of. It was a little after noon, so the adjective use of morning is, in fact, incorrect. I woke up today; yeah, that's it. I woke up today, sleepy as usual in spite of a full nights sleep. As is my wont, I lay in bed for about an hour, giving my diminished musculature an opportunity to slowly catch up with my mind, itself slowly grinding its way up from the pit of sleep to some sense of wakefulness.

I woke up today. After a decent period of supine preparation, I arose, fully intending to wheel into the bathroom, use the toilet, then have a shower. I got started. I swung my lifeless legs over the edge of the bed, using my arms as a personal crane, lifting and pulling them into a wheelchair transfer-ready position. I transferred, an increasingly delicate operation these days, with the assistance of my M-rail, so wisely brought along for this trip. Then I looked at my computer.

I woke up today. My computer grabbed me in its gravitational pull, my fattened bulk drawn closer and closer to the black hole resting on the desk across the room; the urge to write like a magnet, the computer like a giant steel block of attraction. I gave off all hope of resistance, rolling to the desk, moving the desk in front of the window so I could write with a view. I made coffee; it sits beside me, lubricant for my thoughts and feelings to move from mind to keystroke.

I woke up today. My hotel room overlooks the Spokane River, less river-like and more lake-like at this particular bend. It is not so much flowing, as puddling, beautiful and smooth, a giant pool of crystal clear mountain water. The boats barely move at the weakened tug of the water's hidden pull. Sparkling in the sun, both water and boats reflect the beauty of the surrounding hillsides, set thin with pine, rising slowly to soft, low, peaks, small points at the top home to antennae for who knows what, their easy slopes perfect for the massive homes of those who can afford this idyllic lifestyle.

I woke up today. I am not sure if that is good or bad; some days it's hard to know. I am awake. I have written. I am sipping my coffee wondering what next. Perhaps that shower. Then, perhaps I will dress, go out, explore Coeur D'Alene. Barbara Walters once called this place "a little slice of heaven". I should go find out, since I am awake.