Not my circus, not my monkeys.
I’ve been working on not interfering with other people’s day to day jobs because it creates a dependence and reliance that’s kin to the imprint of a baby duck. It’s hard to watch people swing. It’s very hard to not rush over and save everyone involved from what is certain catastrophe.
It is easy however to say over and over again “we’ve had this conversation and you know what you have to do, and the longer you avoid making the hard choices, the likelihood the time will come when there will be no choice.”
I had dream last night about an evil paper grocery bag. The handles, instead of being on the front, we’re on the sides, giving the appearance of ears, and the distinct wrinkles on the front looked like menacing eyes and a nose.
In the dream the bag was found by people it murdered (I don’t know). I do remember dream Me folding the bag with trepidation, worried it would bite me.
I’ve got extra weight around my middle that I’m blaming on everyone else except me. For all of the beautiful weather we had last month, I probably ran outside twice. Now that we’re firmly in the New Year, and the temperatures are well below freezing with bitter windchills, I *have* to run so my clothes fit, so it’s off to the gym. It’s sad because I can’t even wistfully stare out the windows because they’re iced over with sweaty condensation.
Pitchers and catchers report for Tigers’ Spring Training on February 19th, and Tigers open April 6. For some, Spring means flowers and temperate weather and the thunderstorms that come from the transition of the Seasons, but for me it will always be about Baseball and Opening Day.