DIANE MAKAR MURPHY Morning hasn't broken, but peace is shattered

It's 6 o'clock Thursday morning, and Zeke barks. I've actually been awake off and on since 3 a.m. worrying about various things, praying, trying to deep-breathe myself back to sleep, more or less unsuccessfully.
Zeke continues his "whisper" bark -- a lip-poofing, Cowardly-Lion type woof, which he invented to avoid being yelled at by sleeping masters (while still maintaining his duties as "watch dog"). "Bwoof. Bwoof." I rise and look out of the bedroom window.
It looks glacial out there. An ice advisory the day before hasn't proved accurate, but nonetheless, the roads are shiny, and snow -- made slushy by yesterday evening's rain -- has frozen in place.
It is quite dark, lighted only by the streetlights that dot our little neighborhood in Applewood Acres. (My friends who live outside Applewood call it "Pleasantville," but I love it here.)
Inspiration
Across the street, walking along the glistening, snow-covered sidewalks in front of sleepy houses whose Christmas lights are off for the evening, are two women. I know they are women only from their gait.
They are bundled up in huge jackets, with scarves and knit caps and, though it is too dark to really tell, mittens. They remind me of the little boy in the movie "Christmas Story," who is so wrapped for winter that, when he falls, cannot get up.
But these women are walking briskly up the street, presumably exercising!
Amazing!
The thoughts that run through my mind are dizzying. How can they stand it? What motivates them to rise this early and plunge into, wait, let me look at the thermometer, 24-degree weather?! I am mystified and filled with admiration at once.
I do not, however, have any desire to emulate them. No, that's not entirely true. I have no desire to emulate their environment -- marching along with nose hairs crinkling.
A great idea
But I will work out today! Eureka. It's exactly what I've been needing, mind racing from all the Christmas doings, the end of my semester teaching at YSU, my mother's health, a cold that won't seem to stop, my children having too much to do, my husband fighting a minor illness that won't seem to leave him alone either.
In fact, a good portion of my wee-hour stewing has included the thought, "I need a massage. Maybe I should write a story about massages and go all over town to get them." Yeah, right. (This job is great, but let's not get carried away.) At any rate, seeing those women marching up the street caring for their health is inspirational.
It's now 6:33 a.m. and I am vowing to work out today -- bob a bit on the Healthrider (a combination rowing-cycling machine) and lift some embarrassingly light dumbbells. Then I will spend an hour doing yoga, thinking about the reason for Christmas and listening to a CD of Cherokee flute music. Then I'll schedule a massage.
Reality sets in
But first ... Hannah is awake. I think I'll make the kids breakfast and help with the lunches. I have a final to give at 10 a.m. and after, I have to file my grades, then go to The Vindicator.
Before that, I'll bet I could run the vacuum around the living room (it looks awful) and clean up the kitchen a little. I really ought to stop at the grocery store on the way home from work; the refrigerator is absolutely EMPTY! (How can I make breakfast? No eggs or milk! Oatmeal? That should get a great reception.)
I'll have to stop at the bank on the way home. And what about Christmas shopping?! I don't even know what the kids want!.
Okay. Take a breath. Think Christmas. Picture ladies in big, quilted winter coats with scarves and hats trundling along sleepy streets. I can do this. I will do this.
murphy@vindy.com