gravity sucks

Gravity works. It works great. And not just in an indisputable-law-of-physics way. It also works in an I-can't-make-an-effort way. It keeps me anchored - in this very spot - for the last five minutes, five days, five months...

pigskin

Watching football is a metaphor for so many other things that I do...

There's anticipation followed by wild excitement & quiet resignation. And at the end of it all, I'm either happy or sad - for no better reason than my team won or lost. I have no control: I'm not the one calling plays, blitzing the offensive line, intercepting a pass, or kicking a 45 yard field goal. I'm just on the sofa, clapping & shouting & pumping my fist until it's over.

tired

Friday night bleeds into Saturday morning & I fear I will never sleep again.

In the middle of the night there is nothing to do but stare at the ceiling & hope your eyes will close. There's counting sheep, of course, but somewhere around 400 I have to wonder if it's working. There's relaxation, warm milk, even Tylenol PM, but no sleep.

Should I give up? Maybe get some work done? Grade a few papers? Practice the piano? Maybe clean out the refrigerator or re-line the kitchen cabinets with shelf paper?

Or should I lay still, staring at the ceiling in my pitch-dark room, waiting for morning?

off the path

What advice is there for a person who constantly makes the choice to leave the path?
          Keep going?
          Straight ahead?

Because I know that where I should be & where I am are different. I know that I have turned the wrong way off a perfectly acceptable trail. And I think I know the way back. To safety. But I'm not sure if I can muster the energy it takes to lift my feet - first one, then the other - & make the right turn.

And I'm not sure I want to.