Wednesday, March 20, 2013

March Madness

I'm so tired.

The changes have been completely new, yet familiar.

The pain has been substantial.  Big surprise, I know. 

At one point, a segment of something (muscle, tendon, whatever) maneuvered through the side portions of my hip and gut, slowly enough to make my eyes water.  Well, I don't know how long it took, exactly.  I went into reaction mode (no real thinking, just mindful of sensory input).  When it was over, my eyes and face were soaked with tears.

I could say the same of several movies I've watched of late, though.  I cry over the most trivial of crap, most usually others' good fortune.  It's blatant - I'm desparate for something good to happen to me.  Doesn't take much Psych to see that.

*     *     *     *     *

The physical target is so close, yet still undefinable.

The change in my hips is the most noticeable, subjectively, at least.  I'm sitting differently, and it changes how everything above my hips rests upon what is beneath it.

Yet, at the top, this change has not quite reached  a tipping point over my shoulders.  But it's close.  It's a kink at the end of a hose you can't just walk to and straighten, no.  I'm constantly whipping the hose, small and firmly directed bursts, big sweeping throws, you name it.  All it does is change where the kink sits on the lawn, no water coming out of the sprinkler, yet each time I try, I'm certain it will be come undone.

Wrong.  wrong.  wrong.  Until it actually does unkink.  [Worth noting, in the multitude of times I have lived that hose kink flipping literally, the unkinking never fails to release water under much higher pressure than anticipated, soaking me, and making moot the reason for not walking out to the kink in the first place.]

So close, it's maddening, ten thousand times a day.

Some NCAA distractions couldn't be more welcome.

So, let the madness begin!  Er, change, get redirected.  That didn't write well.

*     *     *     *     *

On a different note, my 42nd birthday is quickly approaching.  Late joke that I am, it'll be on April 2nd, 4/2.

Here is to hoping some I Ching type of numerological mumbo jumbo makes my 42nd on 4/2 a good day.

Sure, it isn't turning 11 on 11/11/11 or anything so clearly special (rare), but it's something when you don't have much to grasp on to.