Every morning since January whenever I opened the front door, I saw a slim stack of Wall Street Journal lying on the ground, wrapped in a thin but colored plastic bag. This is the newspaper we got for free from the mileage redemption. I picked it up on my way to work, thinking I could find time to read during the break. But chances are, nine out of ten, I brought it back home untouched, just like those old days when I borrowed the books from the library but returned them unread. Now the table in the kitchen and the corner of the living room were piled up with the newspaper, some still in the bag, some scattered out haphazardly. The other day, my husband used the newspaper in the garage for his car, and I suggested that he should use other advertisement newspaper instead. He retorted, “When do you think you have the time to read?”
Right. Where did all my time go?
Seated in the quiet corner cubicle, I almost dozed off a bit. It is Friday afternoon. They went to a meeting, and I, on an excuse of an urgent report, did not go. I was reading today’s Wall Street Journal during their absence. I know the report wouldn’t take long, but I just didn't want to waste my time over the meaningless meeting.
It was gray dark outside, like the hours in a late afternoon before the dusk. The torrential rains were pounding the roof, the window, the ground and evertrying under the sky. The parking lot was flooded, with streams flowing and rain drops rippling on the surface. The trees, soaked in the rain, were bending and being whipped by the howling wind.
Tomorrow is Saturday, a day that I’ve always been looking forward to. However the hiking plan was washed away with the rain, as all the trails will be closed for sure. Yesterday I happened to see a blog here in the City, in which 美洲狼(thanks btw) posted beautiful pictures of fully bloomed golden poppies in Chino Hills. How I wish I could go this weekend, to immerse (fling??) myself in the green rolling mountains and to embrace the transient beauty of spring in southern CA. |
