Spanish views from a small town

Yesterday morning I went early to a regular check-up analysis at the local clinic. I don't usually leave the house until later in the day, and it was interesting to see how the day was beginning. The days are growing longer, and at eight fifteen in the morning, the light was dark grey, made darker by the morning fog that enshrouded everything. As I drove to town, trees and houses materialized and disintegrated in the mist. There were few cars, almost all of them bearing people going to work at that hour.  I passed an intercity bus pressed into school service picking up children for one of the local elementary schools. As I drove past, parents went walking back in the gloom to their homes. A child was packing a sports gear bag almost as big as him into a car. Sounds were muted. A few early birds were greeting the day, which grew lighter as I drove. I passed a woman hurriedly walking to the door of the hair salon she worked at. A bar was opening its shutters. Another school bus p...

Time. It's just not there. When I wake up in the morning I think I will have time to do everything I propose to do before making lunch. In my dreams, maybe. In reality, no.  I wake up and I want to sleep in. I promise myself I will go to bed earlier tonight. Like I promise myself every morning. Not that I will actually do what I promise myself. I can't sleep in. I have to get up.  Get up, wash, get dressed. Make breakfast. Think of what I want to accomplish this morning. Look at the clock. Already? Check internet. Get caught up in interesting articles. Look at the clock. No way!  Finish breakfast. Do chores. Go back to the computer from time to time to check on things and think about what to write. Open up the story I'm trying to fix, hoping to get to it today. Finally close that window before going to bed without having touched it.  Go out on an errand. It will only take a half hour. Cruise around town five times before finding a parking space. Buy what I n...