The sky is gray. The sidewalk is gray. Everything in between is gray. The only reason there was a difference between the ground and the sky were the trees marking the horizon. This is March in Michigan. Snow still covers the ground, yet the edges that touch the road are black with ice chunks. It is still too cold to do anything outside and the world is gray.
I find myself dressed in gray as well. It is my winter uniform. It is still too cold to wear dresses even with tights. So, each day, I put on black pants and a sweater. Sometimes it’s black, sometimes, white, usually, like today, it’s gray.
Today, though, even my eyes are gray. The dark circles haunt my eyes as I stare into the mirror. I methodically cover them with under-eye makeup and hope that the contrast of black eye-liner will help my sleepy eyes, but instead I am left with a shadow of darkness that reveals my inner feelings – tired.
I started the week behind, I did what I had to do all weekend, but not everything that needed to be done. Now, I feel cheated after the weekend of time change. I wanted that hour. I needed that hour. Now, I’m not only an hour short, I’m tired because of it and I’m still trying to catch up.