It isn't every day that you get to moderate a mosh pit at ye olde day job, eh?!
And conversely, it isn't every day that you see a kid running down the sidewalk away from her parent who looks around panicked at the edge of the driveway (I did see the kid look back, once, but then she turned the corner).
And finally it isn't eveybody's reality to be so blessed and so moody all at once: what is wrong with me?!
T and I are on our way to the keys tomorrow at 0:dark thirty for the nuptials of dear friends (who have found a steadfast love) and still my moods are like a capricious ocean this week! Perhaps I am becoming more and more like the teen-agers I spend so much time around, perhaps I am further down on the inner evolutionary trajectory than I had hoped. And perhaps, just perhaps, all this poetry and yoga and kale-eating isn't getting me anywhere but where I already am anyway. And where is that, might you ask? Well, this morning it is right here on the computer, instead of exercising or reading or cleaning the bathroom.
Sigh, I feel like an old Robbie Robertson song this morning: Somewhere Down the Crazy River. Not so much the lyrics or the melody but the atmosphere of it, the nostalgia of it, and the a little bit cheesy nature of it...