The changeable days of April proceed and my mood changes with them. I can't decide to stay or go, read or stare at the sky, eat or nap, listen to music or wander around the streets looking at the flowers. I go out into the grey day wearing a jacket and the sun comes out and makes me too warm. It is so hard to focus on anything. The pollen must be psychoactive. The sensible thing to do is just enjoy it, I suppose. But I keep getting this nagging feeling that there is something else I need to be doing. What was it? I can't remember. I'm so glad I've never fallen in love with an April personality. I'd be useless year round.