While the Rest of You Slept
A prayer.
Asking for the things I can no longer influence.
Recognizing what I don’t and never will control.
Why was the dog so skittish today?
What’s hiding in our backyard?
What’s she not telling me?
Is she sick?
What were poops like today?
They were good poops.
She’s just a dog doing her dog thing.
Can I run eight miles on two hours of sleep?
Can I run eight miles on an hour of sleep?
Can I run eight miles on twenty minutes of sleep?
I’m not running today.
Looks like I’m not sleeping either.
The problem isn’t money.
The problem is the price.
The problem is I want too much.
Like comfort. Just basic comfort.
Rachel Maddow is smart.
Her voice is condescending.
Smug.
I can’t fall asleep to this podcast.
It’s just making me angry.
I’m not the smartest man, Rachel, but I’m not an idiot.
Your job is to inform.
Instead, your tone makes me feel silly for not already knowing everything you’ve spent time getting to know.
Go away now.
I guess I’m the villain.
I’ve got plenty of misdeeds.
But I’m not inherently bad.
Just flawed.
I guess that’s not allowed.
Yet, I allow for it in others.
The price is wrong.
The game is rigged.
The choice isn’t yours.
A prayer.
Peace. Understanding. Love.
A hippie’s dream.
My woke nightmare.
