Passing Blue
I sign back into the laptop and verify I’m who I say I am – that I have the right to see my data. It’s almost dusk and our neighbour Eddie is outside, shovelling the shared driveway. It’s his turn but he won’t have to work too hard: there are only a few inches of snow blowing around.
On the street white waves alternate with bare pavement. Last week saw a milestone: so-called Blue Monday, the third Monday in January. This year, though, the usual reasons for gloom – such as eating too much during the holidays, and failure to meet fitness resolutions – don’t bother me. When Covid impacted Christmas for the third year in a row, I relaxed my standards in favour of larger sweaters.
Hundreds of little windows in the spreadsheet are waiting, their data peeking through. I begin revisions and continue for a long while.
Outside the shovelling slows, then stops. Eddie’s holding a cigarette. The neighbourhood seems more serious now that people aren’t turning on their Christmas lights, though today there’s a bright swath of sunset.
I check the time: 5:06pm. My turn to make dinner. Then I realize – the sun isn’t going down for a while. Just over a month ago was winter solstice and darkness arrived about a quarter to five: now it’s obvious light is being added to our days, rather than subtracted. Eddie inhales and the end of his cigarette pulls orange. I wonder if he’s thinking how bright it still is. Deciding, like me, that for now this small improvement is enough.
ANECDOTE
