Every little thing is gonna be all right

Monday. Insert a sigh, a harrumph, a pondering chin rub and frown. I stare at the blinking cursor a few moments. I take a swig from my nearly empty mug of coffee. I can find no inspiration outside my office window, just the bare branches of the big willow swinging slightly in the cold February breeze. It is that shadowing time, not long after daybreak. It is cloudy, so everything has an almost black and white feel, as if a blue filter has been placed over the camera lenses of life.

I refill my coffee cup. I stare some more at the blinking cursor. I fart. Of course it does not stink. On the radio they are talking about the big Award Show screw-up last night. I did not watch. I can not think of many activities more boring than watching award shows. If you dig them, I am good with that. That is how I roll. I am not about imposing my will on others. The world would be a better place if I were a Universal Arbiter of Taste and All Things Good and Proper. Even then, I would be a guiding hand, not an authoritative fist. I would be a benevolent leader, not a strict driver wielding a harsh whip. Well, except I would decree that none of the Clinton or Bush families would be allowed to run for public office ever again for the next seven generations.

I have important stuff to do this morning. You will have to be happy with a fair amount of empty words in my entry this morning. That too is how I roll sometimes. We will both survive.