Connective Cube

I feel like I am in my 40s in all of the right ways. My appreciation for tea is high – it makes me drink water. Some people just seem to know to drink water, like an internal alarm goes off that says ‘drink water’, and it isn’t questioned. Often, I forget to drink water, then realize hours into dehydration that I am utterly thirsty.

Another factor is I am forgetful, the type who forgets to bring around a reusable water bottle, or a Camel Back for longer hikes. I abhor having to buy plastic water bottles, and will go without water if I know I’ll get to water soon. Even when I buy bottled water, I feel this overwhelming sense of grossness that I only finish the bottle half the time. Not logical behavior, but no one is getting points for logic right now.

And something about water coming from pipes that have variable levels of care makes me hesitant, at least more recently, to drink what is out of the faucet. The American way, get the cheapest thing built so it can get to done so we can rebuild it again later.

My dry, desiccated veins just want some dang water, that’s more of the alarm bell.

It’s been dry this season in Baltimore. Hoping for rain, or some relief to all of the dust in the air. The leaves on the oaks seem less robust this year, and shedding seeds softly, quietly. I will miss this view from the back deck, one that’s perfect for sipping a cup of water and staring at the blobs of surrounding trees.