Slowly

Gloomy weather has settled in. That time of year has arrived. It seems to be hitting hard for the first time in several years. This morning I feel little enthusiasm even for the river, and a task as simple as packing is difficult to undertake. However, sometime today I will depart to spend the week with Dad at Poplar Bluff. If there is any sunlight, I'll be in a good place to take advantage of it. Be well. I probably will not be in touch again until the weekend.

I read and reread these sentences obsessively. I always do that, second-guessing myself, but now the habit is more extreme. I don't know what I'm looking for.