2021

It's already past the halfway mark of 2021 and I haven't written a word.  I believe this to be a symptom of how words are beginning to slink away from me. Which is sad, but the kind of sad for which there is no recourse.  Stage Four sad, metastasized.

Meanwhile I am balanced on the knife's edge of happy.

By which I mean, I have much to be grateful for, and am able to experience that gratitude without flinching My work is engaging, and I am very good at it.  I control my own schedule.  My kids are ferociously alive.  I bought the slightly nicer cookie sheets.

But there is always a drop, and it is always only a few atoms away.  We are none of us allotted unalloyed joy.