Today I’m stuck.
Stuck in a rut that I can’t seem to, and don’t really want to get out of. I was stuck yesterday too. And the day before that, and the day before that.
Every dream … every thought ... stuck in neutral, trapped in mud.
Hard as I try, I keep going back to the beginning - back to square one - doing the same thing over and over and over again. Just an endless cycle of spinning my wheels … going nowhere … doing nothing.
If I died today I guess I would have had a good life - a wife, three kids, a handful of plaques and a trophy or two. But today I don’t feel lucky. Today I don’t feel blessed. Today I just feel stuck.
I thought about exercising. I thought twice.
I thought about writing something funny. Nothing came to mind.
I thought about reading a book but turned on the TV instead. Nothing was on, 135 channels but not one thing.
I folded a load of laundry and pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. I never plugged it in; I just put it back in the closet and left the floors dirty.
I opened the fridge to see if there was something good to eat even though I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t find anything so I shut the door. I opened it again just to make sure.
I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror - I was old. I washed my hands even though they weren’t dirty. I dried my hands and then looked in the mirror again. Still old.
I felt my neck for a pulse – still alive.
I walked back into the kitchen and flipped through a stack of CD’s. I opted for quiet.
I grabbed my jacket and keys and opened the door. It was raining outside. Hard.
I hung my coat in the closet and threw my keys on the kitchen table. A wasted day, a wasted week, a wasted month, a year, a life. No ambition. No motivation. No stimulation. Just emotional straightjacket, spiritual quagmire, buried-in-an-avalanche stuck.
It won’t last forever, probably not even the rest of the day, but right now I’d trade places with just about anyone else in the world.
Today I’m a loser, a whiner, and a complainer. I have no positive thoughts, not a one. Today I’m miserable and shitty.
Today I suck. I wouldn’t want to be me if I had a choice. But I don’t. I’m stuck with my no-good-rotten self for the rest of the day, probably tonight too. Maybe tomorrow will be different.
Maybe tomorrow I grease the skids and move forward, if just a little.
Maybe tomorrow I don’t look so old or feel so worthless.
Maybe tomorrow the sun comes out and dries up the rain.
Maybe I do 50 push ups and break a sweat. Maybe I eat something healthy and go for a run.
Maybe I write something funny or go for a drive. Maybe I take a good picture or chat with a stranger.
... Or maybe tomorrow I wake up and stare at the ceiling for an hour before I get out of bed. Maybe I don’t get out of bed at all. Maybe it never ends. Maybe I stay like this till the end of my days.
It’s not that great, but it’s not so bad.
Sometimes I'm fine standing still, doing nothing, going nowhere. Sometimes heaviness and doom are my friends. Sometimes it’s better being worse.
Sometimes I just want to be stuck.
But sometimes I don't.