Monday was 365 days compressed into 10 or 12 hours followed by my staring off into space trying to figure out how many trucks ran over me and how I could possibly be standing.
Really, someone drugged me and threw me into a pit full of mud and I don’t know if they were trying to kill me or just curious to see if I could pull myself out of it when I was neck deep.
I did it not because I am a tough guy or particularly skilled developing gills or some sort of mutation that would allow me to give up breathing but because I didn’t know what else to do.
And that is how I got to this moment in time where I still haven’t a clue what to do or how to do it so maybe I’ll ask my father’s ghost.
He hasn’t officially revealed himself to me even when I asked him if he wanted to pretend to be an old sea captain while I dressed up as Mrs. Muir.
Figures, the old man would probably tell me he wasn’t interested in my ‘nunsense’ but I’d ask him anyway.
I’d look at the old man and tell him his youngest grandchildren like talking about how he pretended not to know what WTF meant.
They have him on film saying “Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot” not knowing I told him what WTF meant long ago.
Nor have they any knowledge that sometimes dad and I would use “Snafu and Fubar” in conversation.
Both felt appropriate for today and are part of why I have spent time putting words down upon paper in some of the usual places and elsewhere.
If the old man’s ghost showed up I’d remind him about a time I called and asked for his best advice and then complained about it.
“Is that the best you have got?”
“Yeah, you are going to have to figure this one out as you go.”
“You know this is no time to try to teach me some kind of lesson. I’m too old and this is serious.”
“I agree but that is all I have got. It is fun being an adult sometimes.”
I grumbled, hung up the phone and walked out towards a situation I thought was Fubar not knowing that I hadn’t begun to really understand what that could mean.
So midway into this 365 day long day I asked myself what I planned on doing and answered my own question.
“I don’t know what the fuck I am doing. Really, this beats the fuck out of me guess I am going to have to see what happens. Nothing has killed me yet and some things/people have tried.
Got a couple of situations where I definitively have no idea if I what I am doing is going to lead to significant improvement.
All I have is hope and that is not a strategy I can rely upon but it is all I have got and it makes me crazy.
If I did have dad or even his ghost to speak with about a different challenge he’d tell me to do what I am doing because there aren’t any other good options, everything else is either bad or far too risky.
So if you ask, I’ll say hold on ‘cuz I’ll keep going. I’ll keep pushing my way through because I see no other options.
And so I find myself at 11 PM wide awake, wondering when sleep will overtake me, won’t be any time soon.
Guess I’ll keep writing.