It’s raining. I took Cricket to walk first thing after rolling out of bed this morning on the theory that if I went out in the rain before my shower, I would then get to luxuriate in the hot water when I returned, damp and chilled. It worked like a charm, although when I sat in my usual chair for my journaling and such, I did have to cuddle with a wet dog. At least she’s a warm body.

I am glad of the rain today. It makes me feel safe. One of the ways in which my anxiety manifests happens when I’m outside and suddenly the sky is way too big. Actually, yesterday it happened while I was driving, which is an exacerbating condition. There was a rift in the clouds, just enough to give a greater sense of depth to the sky behind the clouds. Today, with the rain, the sky is smaller, socked in, cosier.

I, too, am socked in and cosy. Not that I’m wearing socks right now, just slippers, but still. My room, my desk, my chair take on the aspects of warm nests. The green things outside the window are extra green and alive. Drops glisten on the screens. My sweater is soft like a hug.

The sound of the day is tapping: fingers on keyboard, rain on roof.