I find myself making faux Turkish coffee on the stove. Straining the grounds. Savoring the bittersweet smell. Adding milk because I prefer it this way.
I find myself about to see a movie that by all rights I should love, but I may or may not, because the first one was a disappointment.
I find myself smelling of a Central California forest, crisp and clear and bright.
I find myself staring at the snow outside my window. Hoping it will melt. Hoping all this snow will not mean a long, cold winter. Knowing it doesn't matter, that spring will come when it comes. But craving warmth.
I find myself wishing for a fireplace and thinking once again about a faux fireplace.
I find myself thinking about making another coffee, but drinking tea instead.
I find myself thinking about my next bath.
I find myself wishing to go somewhere warm, just for a little while, but instead we're going somewhere colder, because family. And inside with our family, it will be warmer than a tropical beach.
I find myself loved and cared for, even on a cold, wintery day. About to go on a date with my beloved.
I find myself Decembering.