falling back always feels to me like finding a twenty dollar bill in the pocket of a pair of my jeans that had been hidden away for months after having slid accidentally under the bed and out of sight.
i know deep down that i've already earned it, that i've always possessed it, that i would always, inevitably, regain it, retrieve it, have use of it again. but it feels like a little gift, little almost to the point of being trivial, and yet not, a little gift i've received. and that therefore i should splurge (what a word, with its mysterious origins!). on some little happiness of no real consequence. that i'm somehow honor-bound to use it that way. and certainly must not set it aside for a rainy day. and despite knowing the arrival of the event is imminent it always seems unexpected. less christmas morning than a surprise birthday party one only half expects to manifest. which increases the likelihood of spontanaeity in its use. whatever whim should whip.