Just when you think you KNOW that a worst-case scenario

is about to turn your life up-side down, and you are steeling yourself for the shock that life is about to dish out and knock you metaphorically k.o. yet again, whaddaya know, some god-damned, heretofore docile Rottweiler smells it, and decides, (wtf???), to ATTACK out of left field.

And there you are on the virtual floor again, looking up at the ceiling, groggy, and trying to make sense of it. Only the ceiling is a fun-house mirror, and there is nothing you can recognise in it. Double bitch-slap and two super hard punches to the solar plexus comes close to describing it.... (I was ready for the other, more or less....) But only just close. The reality is worse, actually.... but what do I know, being 'cowardly and only superficial in my thoughts'? Uh-Huh...

(Which keeps bringing some stupid song from the Sixties or early Seventies going round and round in my head. 'They smile in your face--back-stabbers...' Only I forgot the rest of the lyrics.)

Let's face it, I'm getting old, whether I want to or not. Less resiliant, thin-skinned, but at least still objective... And after all the turbulence of the past year, I am only functioning at one third of what I used to be able to do. It has taken all my inner reserves to get through it without a trip to the Sigmund Freud clinic, and yeah, that is exactly what you think it is... Just when you are at your most vulnerable, hey, they attack.

That has been my 'wonderful' week.

So you are all gonna haveta excuse me while I call for someone with a virtual spatula to scrape me off the virtual floor, and I get my balance back. I'll probably be back in a few days.

And that will be the end of this topic. There are some things I do not write about, because it would be taken wrong, and damaging. So? That's all he wrote, hey. Go read something uplifting, meanwhile, okay? James Wolcott is always fun...

I wanted to 'adorn' this with a photo of dog-shit on the sidewalk, but they are seemingly scooping the poop of late. Or a good one of puke on the sidewalk, but there wasn't a high school prom across the way the past couple of days. Or a used snotty Kleenex about to be flushed down the toilet, but I ran out of Kleenex. And used toilet paper would have been just too crass, if fitting.

Because that is how I feel. Aren't you lucky I didn't get lucky....

(/end topic)