Should I Laugh Or Cry?

The grandfather clock that lives inside my head went off at 1, 1:30 and 1:45 AM each ding dong a reminder that morning would come far too soon but none of them served as succor for the unbridled fury in my head.

I closed my eyes and went looking for the things that were keeping me awake, determined to knock them silly if not rip them into tiny pieces.

Sleep is rarely hard for me to fall into so when it makes itself scarce I find it extra disturbing especially when the machines that are supposed to make it easier to rest peacefully fail.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I woke and discovered I felt more rested than I expected. Grabbed the phone and started flipping through the 10,833,883 emails looking for one in particular because I had to know where things stood.

It wasn’t there, shook my head, muttered something about today being a bad day for it not to show and set about the morning routine.

Three hours later it arrived with unexpected news that made me smile and shake my head because maybe, just maybe it proved some prayers are answered.

Thing gave me extra motivation to leverage my good fortune and push hard never expecting the crash that would come a couple hours later.

“Should I laugh or cry.”

Are You Ok?

I nodded my head knowing the look on my face made it appear that I was anything but.

Wasn’t physically hurt but I was ticked off because I don’t have time to clean up the messes in my life that are caused by other people and this guaranteed more chaos.

Still I did the courteous thing and asked the same question and upon receiving an affirmative gathered the final details and left.

Instead of celebrating some significant opportunities and doing a little dance to get myself further motivated I jumped on the computer and did some serious research so that I wouldn’t be caught off guard.

Midway through I received the results of Monday’s blood work and smiled because one of the key numbers dropped, not as much as I want it to but enough to reaffirm that I am not going to go quietly into the night.

Dad was collector of disease and crap and this one particular item has been high on my list of things not to catch. Loved dad dearly but in this I am determined to be my own man.

Sometimes the kids ask me about how long grandpa was this or that and are surprised when I respond. Been dealing with some of these issues with him or other family members for anywhere between 49 and 31 years.

I recognize the signs.


Open House took me out of the routine for a Monday night and forced me to hit the gym at later hour than I wished to attend. Had I not gotten the good news of the morning I might have said screw it and worked out the way I really wanted to.

Would have spent longer on the treadmill and longer lifting but once I found out that opportunity still knocks decided I needed to take some time to prepare.

Let’s be honest, when I want to get to the other side of particular places I am always willing to go through, over or under the walls that stand between me and them/it.

Except when I see the door open and then I hustle over to put my foot or shoulder inside it so that it won’t close.

You can blame that particular attribute for extra scars and bruises.

And you can say I have learned how to pay more attention to timing the run so I don’t slam full force into doors that are locked top and bottom.

It is not easy, not in my nature to just pull back and wait.

Not when I know that if I hit it hard enough I can knock it off of the hinges and destroy the frame.

But age brings maturity…maybe.

Honest Writing

N0t so long ago in a time that never was and a place that might have been someone told me I ought to write with reckless abandon and say the hell with the consequences.

Sometimes I think about doing so because there is a sense of joy that comes with unencumbered writing. It is similar to saying “I love you” to someone you know loves you too but who hasn’t said it.

There is a kind of rush that comes with it, even when you aren’t sure if they will say it back.

Sometimes you go for it because you can’t imagine not taking your shot and sometimes you don’t because the carousel pony you were riding has come and gone.

In theory it might come back around and you can climb upon your wooden steed and see if you can grab that brass ring. It always sounds good and seems logical to say that travels in a circle must revisit the points it has passed.

Except you can’t promise the carnival won’t pack up and move before it circles around again. Can’t promise some brash East Coast developer won’t buy the whole lot and tear it down to replace it with their gaudy decorations and pathetic ideas of hospitality.

Really, who wants to eat a hamberder on China.


So I sit here on my electronic porch writing these words and watching.

Thinking about the people and things that matter and doing my damnedest to not let the others irk me.

If you can fix it with money, well than you are probably in pretty good shape, even if you don’t have the cash to do what needs to be done or so thte theory goes.

Giving myself a few minutes to think about the foolish people who lied to me and got upset when I pointed out the inconsistency and stupidity of what was said.

At least one of them saw the look on my face that said they were busted and yelled at me to leave because they suddenly remembered they had stuff to do.

Don’t look at me and say the equivalent of “you’ll never have to breathe again” because we both know it is false. Better to be honest and say you are uninterested or to come up with a lie that is at least plausible.

What a damn day.


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