chocolate eclairs

eee gad. This is disgusting, siting on my bum, woofing down my third chocolate eclair this week, with my 15th attempt at writing the same page. Scribbled at the top of the page, in big bold letters, hoping the bolder the letters the greater the commitment, are the words ... "My Life Plan".

Sure (sarcasm), like you can really plan anything. I vacillate between having it all laid out, hour by hour, week by week, and going with the proverbial flow.

Day timers, seven habits, the urgent - yet unimportant dutifully crossed off my list. Then without warning, I throw my arm up, swiping everything off the table and onto the floor, where they sit until next week.

Why do i feel this incessant need to plan everything? Then a voice echos in the back of my head. Always there, always right and as confusing as a spiral placed on a pinwheel, mesmerizing me to pick up a pen, put it to paper and write.

bovine

For a moment, it was like I was stuck in time. I was on the phone, standing by the window watching cows in the neighboring pasture frantically run across the field. They were scared of something, and though I had a complete view of the pasture, I could see nothing....i repeat, nothing. Seems like cows just get spooked.

I laughed outload, completely ignoring my phone conversation with David. The sight of bovine frantically scrambling for safety, finding nothing but open pasture, was more than I could handle. Double funny because nothing was there. They are simply too big to run, too big to hide and too stupid to use what they DO have (their size) to protect themselves from this hidden enemy.