…words to the wise…don’t be a roofer…

My life is fairly quiet, uneventful. I know where I’m going to be. There are few surprises. But in the past few days I have found myself responding to last minute invitations, requests or calls and traveling to unplanned liaisons and events. Too, I thought I’d be one place, ended up at another. Too, unexpected e-mails. Too, oddly philosophical discussions begun out of the blue, many of which had to do with the existential quandary, “Is there any point to anything and when was the last time you thought the answer to that was ‘yes’?”

So, this morning, when my phone buzzed with the “we’ll be at the gym at 9” message and it was already 8:30, somehow I convinced myself, “I need to go.”

I went. My heart rate kept spiking to unreasonably and unusually elevated levels despite my rather lazy approach. I am feeling – well – strange. The spiking heart rate – unusual for me – is reflective of the odd combination of mental and emotional enervation and agitation; up, down, all over the place, yet, all of it resulting in this pervading numbness.

But, there it is. So, I finish my lackadaisical yet still unreasonably exhausting work-out and head to the parking lot, across which I spy roofers cavorting atop the in-process townhouse/condo structures.


I think to myself, “Holy bat-balls, I would never be able to resist the urge to jump.”

Quickly followed by the thought, “What did you say?”

Guess I better put off applying for that construction gig. Or, maybe . . .

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