my place

Today is that day. Today is the day that I wake up late because I didn't want to crawl my stiff muscles and cracking bones out of bed. I feel like a crumpled over tin can. We all know those can't be reshaped into their beautiful cylindrical has-been selves. Today is an eerie day, a quiet day in a usually bustling house. I'm alone today, and it's snowing. Stop making me look at pictures of other people in far off distant and exotic countries, soaking up the sun or sipping wine under the Eiffel tower. I'm a crumpled tin can in a cold house getting snowed on. What will bring me to that place? But which place? Couldn't someone else's dream be my place?