I know it’s cold. The cold woke me up.
How cold is it? Let me check.
Lots of interesting numbers, there. I see a repeating series, on the bottom. But that entails the future, and we never know.
The only thing we know is the now. And now, the number is 2.
It could be worse. It could be 1. I wrote about 1, I know, last year.
What else do I want to tell you, while the number is still 2? (It is; I checked.)
When the number is that low, the cold HURTS.
Yesterday, when I was waiting for a bus, the cold was hurting. The temperature wasn’t as low as now, but the hurt was still there. As I was feeling that pain, I was talking to myself, to hold off any fear: “It’s okay, even though it hurts.”
I had time to say that, several times, as I waited, surrounded by other people.
A bus came, but it wasn’t my bus. I was very glad to see it, though.
Why? Because of this:
Then, it wasn’t as cold, or hard to wait.
My bus arrived. And it was warm inside there, too.
One more check, before I end this post.
Yep. It’s still 2.
Thanks to people who can write LOVE, no matter what, and to you — of course! — for reading today.