Every year, around this time, a warm day will come and throw me off.
Is it spring? Is it winter? It smells and feels like spring but the calendar and weather men say its winter. And I get uneasy.
I am all about a fresh start, a new year, month, season, notebook, clean slate, white paint. I constantly want to start over, rewind and reject what I have done. When it all rarely works out its a miracle and it is framed and enjoyed...but what season is it?
Now, should I be planning my rebirth or does that escape allude me? I want to start over.
Warm weather reminds me of everything I failed to do this winter.
