This morning was chilly. I take that back. It was cold, as in below freezing. 

This need not be an untenable situation, since I do own gloves and a warm coat. I have not worn them in eight months, but they were waiting patiently for me in the entryway, with no evidence of annoyance at having been neglected. Which I cannot claim of myself when someone ignores my texts for half that long. 

Our car, the one whose dashboard I am still deciphering, confused me as I tried to figure out how to turn on the heat. Well, to be honest, the confusion is not so much the fault of the car as my own ignorance. But hurling blame is faster than paying attention. 

Having a strategy for when the months shift is prudent. Because change is baked into the plan. In anticipation of December, I splurged and went to the thrift store. I picked out half a dozen cozy sweaters, that brighten up the business of body heat. I live in a clime where there are seasons, and it behooves me to do my part. 

A friend mentioned that she is trying to become more patient. Frustrations bite at her ankles, like mosquitoes in July, and it takes effort not to snap. The thing about strengthening a muscle, or a character trait, is that they need to engage. A dancer does not increase her ability by staying on the sidelines. On rare occasions I have remembered this at the moment I needed it. 

Just today, I was waiting for the pharmacist to help me. There was a line, and it would have been easy to resent the delay. But I chose to observe the people working, quite busily, as it happens, and one woman was laughing even as she slapped labels on bottles. I thought it would be fun to work beside someone who can bring levity to a task that is probably tedious. 

Rather than wishing I was somewhere else, or the only customer in the store, I breathed into the complexity of six people trying to serve a dozen... both those I could see and those I couldn't. 

Maybe I went home with something more long-lasting than my prescription.