moment

I am lost in a moment.

It's not always kind, this ticking clock.

Sometimes it zips by, yanking us blindly along. I've seen that with my children already. MOBB has already shed real tears about them attending college. I used to joke about that. Used to.

***

I'm a slow runner. I get lapped. Young men--why is it always young men?--show up at the track. I'll be a few laps in, and they pull up. Maybe they stretch, maybe they don't. I don't care, don't pay any attention.

I trudge along, eeking out my laps and ZOOM, one will pass me.

Tall, slender, wearing expensive running stuff. These guys are always faster, much faster than I.

I don't know how they can do it. Sometimes they'll bring a girl or two. They look great pulling steadily away from their running partners. I'm sorry, but crawling along at your girly pace is way too inconvenient for the likes of ME. Off they go.

I just plod along.

And before I know it, they're gone. I'm still doing my thing, and they've packed up and left.

Good night, junior. Hope your lady friend was impressed.

***

This fatigue makes me about half crazy.

***

Rangers lost to the @#$% Mets.

***

Sometimes... it's hard.

***

Good night.