Invierno

This is the first day of December, and today, for the first time, it snowed. Agreeable symmetry, if you ask me.

I shouldn’t have slept as long as I did today. There’s something in my bones that can tell when it’s snowing or raining – a barometer, say – and today, my bones communicated with my subconscious like this:

“Hey Subconscious. Um. You wanted us to tell you when it was snowing. Um. It’s snowing.”
“Thank you, The Bones. That’ll be all.”

Then, my snooty, suit-and-tie-wearing subconscious, who had rolled from the computer over to the phone in his too-expensive rolling leather chair, rolled back to the computer and sent an e-mail to my concious:

“ATTN: Conscious

Problem: The Bones informed me it is snowing currently.
Consideration: The Boss likes to sleep when it is snowing.
Submission: When the alarm sounds, signal The Hands to shut it off quickly, and I shall take him back under for another hour.

Efficiently yours,
Subconscious

sc

P.S. Absolutely loved that sweet-potato casserole. Send the recipe?”

My conscious found this submission consonant with his lethargic leanings, and I got up an hour late. I made up for it, though, by working until seven this evening. Of course, you are probably thinking Ian! here you are, writing trite, inconsequential things instead of sleeping so you can be up early tomorrow! Actions! not words.

Loud and clear. Here I go.

(He didn’t send the recipe because my subconscious said “shall” instead of “will,” and he felt that needed punishing. Also, the lethargy.)