I wish there was one.
To hang on one's door. Or on one's Twitter or Facebook account or give an automatic email response. When one is incommunicado, please don't bother.
Like for today.
Feeling scowly and sad and a mite worried and physically challenged and super-tired.
And you know, this is when everybody decides to call, bang on the knocker, phone, message. Want to visit, want to make social interaction with me. And frankly? I don't. Not at all. I feel like one long week of rain. Miserable. So I ignore. And hide.
What makes it worse is the gorgeous weather outside, the blue of the ocean.
And yes, thoughts of Irma and the dreadful happenings of climactic weather conditions for our neighbour down below and to the left of where I am. And they have a guy in charge, so I hear, who doesn't believe in climate change and the warming oceans that cause this and that it's going to get a whole lot worse.
So I should feel grateful and safe.
And that makes me feel small and selfish and self-centred and even more miserable.
Bootstraps don't work.
Sleep is the antidote to misery.
I curl up and sleep and assure myself, like Scarlett, that tomorrow is another day.
Which is exactly what I did yesterday.
