Yesterday’s t-shirt and a pair of sweats
I thought I would write a blog post tonight.
That is before I actually sat down to do it. Now that I’ve sat down to do it, and have continued to sit here staring at this screen for over and hour, I’m not sure why I thought that.
Once upon a time I knew a lot of words. It was fun to string them together and see how they sounded, what sorts of twists and turns they might make. They could make stories and rhymes. They could chat about the day. They could tickle and punch. They could sing.
On occasion they still do.
But these days they are more likely to dotter and slouch. They slip on a pair of scuffed corduroy house shoes and shuffle out to get the paper from the front stoop, dragging the untied belt to a bathrobe, and mumble through the funnies and the want ads, making that horrible throat-clearing noise. I don’t think they’ve combed their hair for months.
Nobody knows quite what to do when the shine wears off.