Just Playing

Just taking the Monkeymind out for a spin.  It's been gathering dust, maybe even rust.  

My subconscious mind is dormant and my conscious mind is, well, sub.  I need to shake off the lethargy. 

Doc wore his lethargy like an unbuttoned overcoat.  A quick shoulder shrug and it would fall in a heap at his back.  

Shrug is a fun word to say and sounds like a creature in a book for children.  

When the enormous blue Shrug approached,  the Gleams ran for cover.

I did some push-ups this morning.  I won't say how many because that would be embarrassing for me, but I will say the number reached double digits and there was a 2 involved.  It ain't easy being an athletic ectomorph.  (In the old days I was an ectomorphic athlete.) In my next life I am going to be a tall mesomorph.  A real smart one, though.  Not one of those who are all muscle, no mind.

Honestly, I don't know why I brought that up.

I want to say something about the Tea Party and politics in general, but I was taught, "If you can't say something nice..."  Truth is, I can't say anything that's even in the neighborhood of nice.

I usually need a butterfly net to capture random thoughts fluttering about, but today there are few and those few are sluggish. I can grab them with a free hand.  Here's one I just caught:  Sluggish sounds like a stew served at a lumberjack camp.  "Hey Cookie, what da hell's in dis sluggish, road kill?"

And then we get to the part where the mind starts to get orderly.

It is cloudy and cool this morning.  The previous night's rain tapered off near dawn, but has left the air wet and fresh in its wake.  The sun is trying to make a comeback, but lingering clouds are fending it off. This may be an all day struggle with both clouds and sun having the upper hand periodically.  For reasons having something to do with the way I feel, I'm rooting for the clouds.  Allow me to clarify because I want to dispel the notion that men can't talk about their feelings.  

I feel less than well. 

Alrighty then.  Now that I have forever put to rest that old myth I can get on with my day.  

Yesterday I found an Irish Pub/Sports Bar within an easy bicycle ride of my house.  It's a perfect place to have a beer, smoke a cigar and cheer for my favorite teams.  Or at least it would be if beer wasn't so expensive here (compared to Panama) and if I hadn't quit cigars two months ago - not that they are allowed in bars anyway - and I had the drinking stamina to sit for three hours doing same, which I don't. Ah well, old age has other compensations.  I can't think of any at the moment, but I'm sure they exist.  Wisdom!  See, there's one! 

I'll be getting that any day now.