Turning Back the Clock This is not to say that I don’t appreciate all the conveniences I have as a result of you. But sometimes you really do cross the line. Like today, when I awoke to find that you had predictably taken into account that extra hour I was given. And as a result, I slept through it. In other years, when I turned back the clock myself I anticipated that hour throughout the day; waiting for the gap that I wanted to claim as my own. Removing the bowl of pulp and seeds from the refrigerator and separating the two. Roasting and salting pumpkin seeds because it seems like a fall thing to do even though no one really seems to enjoy them. Or walking the dogs in the shuffle of leaves lamenting not putting sunscreen on my lips as I felt the first tingle of a fever blister. Or sitting on the back porch at the early dusk with a drink by my side, a book in my lap, head tilted back, thinking about how to write a poem about squirrels going home at the end of the day. But because you had already accounted for that hour as I slept, today will be like any other.

It's hard to believe it's been nearly two years since I've posted here. But it was also hard to believe that it's been nearly four years since I fried chicken, which I realized last night when I retrieved my big jug of peanut oil from the basement and it had expired in 2012. So time really does fly or skid or super G and before you know it you're at the finish line - hopefully without too, too many regrets. I don't want not writing to be a regret. I've been waking up everyday lately with a high level of anxiety. And I can point to all kinds of external things as the source of that anxiety. But I wonder if that's a smokescreen for an anxiety that I'm not doing anything worthwhile with my life. Instead I worry about my job, my failure to exercise, the food that I ate yesterday and whether I'll be able to do better tomorrow. None of which really matters or changes, so I've eased into a groove that has left me uneasy. All because I don't have the courage - or grit - to put myself out there in written word. Instead of writing, I spent the afternoon - truly hours - reading about what to eat and do to look seven years younger, which - if attained - would mean what? So I say again, "here I am". And God willing tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. And focused on more meaningful and fruitful pursuits.