Everyday just when my eyes begin to flutter open and my mind stirs, through faded memories of dreams I might have had and songs that greet my tired brain, pierces through one exact thought, one thought only that remains the same every morning: is today the day?
Words of motivation, enough to sit up and get out of bed. Whether or not getting dressed is apart of that really depends, as some forms of motivation can only go so far. A wave of the arm to brush aside the curtains, and half-lidded eyes meet the sun still low enough in the sky to push little rays of warm light through my window.
Breakfast, they always tell you, is the most important meal of the day. Sometimes, it's when you eat the most. My thoughts are always occupied by the one persisting question above all, my hands fumbling as they crack eggs and grate cheese and pour juices. Silly mistakes easy to laugh off and clean up if need be, bringing tiny smiles to my cheeks.
Eggs need flavour. Pepper, maybe. Life needs spice. Would pepper work for that too?
Should I... do it now?
Small and unsure. Not now. Save it, and find a better time. A better time might come up. A better time, a better use.
Little questions pop up in the background, drawing my attention away for only a moment as I answer them and assure myself. Only one question remains, constantly in the front of my mind, asking if it's finally its turn to be answered.
No, not now. A better time, a better use.
Not now, so it sits quietly, patiently waiting. Making no sound, it cries volumes in my head when nothing else is there to block it out. Patience? An overstatement. Can non-living concepts have patience?
This might be a good time.
Sitting, drinking water, ice cubes slightly melted. Brain unoccupied with anything else other than the one thought that never leaves. This is a good time. Is it the best time? Must be careful and make the right choice of when to use it.
Could the right choice be now? Maybe. A possibility. But the possibility of an even better choice in the eventual future is bigger. The math doesn't lie. Fine. Not right now. Not yet.
Still, it sits softly, leaving little room for other thoughts. What else is there to think about? Nothing. No space for other thoughts. No time to think about anything else, either. What if the right moment passes while I think about something else? Can't let that happen.
But it's not really thinking, at the same time. It's just letting it sit there inside your head, barely even stirring. Just plopped there, like slime or goo, lying overtop your brain. It's comfortable to have it there, maybe. Not quite sure. Don't have space to really think about if it's comfortable.
Now?
Now? Should I? Is now a good time? Well, now is a good time. But is it a very good time? It has to be a very good time to do it. It has to be a perfect time to do it. Is right now perfect? No. Not yet.
Daily activities, unavoidable but not a chore. Fun, almost. Anything more fun that just sitting and thinking. Outside air can be just what one needs to clear their mind. When too many other questions cram in, filling up what open space was left around the constant question, stepping outside can do just the trick.
Like blown away with the wind, all the other thoughts disappear. One day, do you think, it will blow away too? Maybe. But I don't know. That question already flew away with the afternoon breeze.
...Now?
No.
Current events are not thoughts. They are the present. They do not apply to the rules of other questions growing in the crevices. They can override the mind and only let you focus on what's happening. They're nice. A welcoming distraction.
When did the sun set? It's not in the sky anymore. Do you think the sun wonders about itself, too? Where did the time go? Why is it looking at a different side of Earth right now? Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it doesn't have any space for thought, either. Maybe it has a bigger question it can't quite shake.
The floor that had been warmed by rays of sunlight, now cold, guides me back to bed. Did I do it? Was today the day?
No.
No? Okay. Tomorrow, then, maybe. Maybe. Don't really know, not much room to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow will become today soon enough, and then there will be time to think about it. Tomorrow just needs patience. Its time would come.
Everything had a time that was going to come. It was guaranteed to come. Tomorrow will come, growth will come. It was like a queue line. All the little bits of the future, lined up waiting to happen. Like the questions in mind. All they needed was patience, and then they'd be answered soon enough.
Every night just before my eyes drift shut and my breathing slows, my thoughts quiet themselves down to softer hushes like children trying not to get caught up late at a sleepover. Even the big main thought that came first thing in the morning will only join me again as soon as I wake up. The question that I pondered for a full day never really leaves. Or maybe it does, but I've just gotten so used to it that I can imagine that it's still there even when it's gone.
Every night just before I fall asleep, the thought that has followed me around like a second shadow the entire day visits me once again, the last thought I have before my brain rests: Maybe one day I'll find the perfect moment to use my frozen block of hot sauce in the freezer.
Maybe one day. Not quite sure. Don't have time to think about the future. But the math never lies.
