A Foggy Saturday Morning

9:24am. I haven't even looked outside but I am guessing it is foggy. Given that it is Port Alberni in December there is a good chance. As I dozed in and out of consciousness this morning, I don't recall what I was dreaming so I can't tell you whether I was having good dreams, bad dreams, sweet dreams, or weird dreams. I do however, remember the moment of realization that I was back in the conscious world and the weight and ache set in. You know that feeling? You wish you could drift back to sleep but it doesn't come. You open your eyes, heave your legs over the side of the bed and sigh.

In case you have not already guessed, your pal Dubya is sad, heart broken. :( I will spare you the details, but alas I am bummed and the world does not make sense and I give a half-hearted smile at people I don't know but have a pretty hard time hiding it from those I do know. I have not cried yet, but that will come. Right now, my tide flows between pain and numbness. I will spare you the details of my woes as well, lest I bum you out too. I had to say something though. A couple years ago I made some sort of commitment to the truth and it has brought me here.

A million clichés run through my head. I bet you are thinking of a few of them right now.

Often, time seems like an enemy. Right now it seems like a friend who is running late.

It is what it is. All kinds of days are bound to make their way here. Fear not, fellow rebels, brighter days for W are out there somewhere.

W