As I mentioned in a post the other day, I am in hi-brain-ation, and my mental acuity is at an all time low. Like joy sucking zombies, the sunless, cold January days seem to have reached in and attached themselves to the happy and are trying hard to deposit some gloomy.
The part of my brain where wit and humor live is on lockdown and being guarded by two scary guys with guns. The thoughts that usually become somewhat humorous posts have been replaced by an annoying white noise and a test pattern that says:
Meanwhile, here I am with not much to say that makes sense and nothing at all funny. Other writers, more seasoned than I, tell me that if I just write ( just DO-IT! ) the words will come. I’d like them to tell me how to get past the scary guys with guns and into that cell where the funny is.
Maybe I’ll pull an El Chapo and tunnel in ( I know, he tunneled OUT. I’ll just reverse it and break IN to the prison) or maybe I’ll just wait for the sun to shine and the guards to leave.
Yeah, I think I’ll wait for the sunny days. That whole digging thing would take a lot of effort and the proper equipment, and that might include some ugly shoes. I don’t like ugly shoes.
Please stand by, our regularly scheduled programs will return with the sunshine.
Until then, here is a reminder that the sun is always the victor in the game if we’re just patient and wait.