The Taxation of the Mind

The Taxation of the Mind
This week has had it all. Grief, complaints, hunger, headaches, vaginal questions, low budgets and the ever popular favorite, the contemplation of life.
There I sat on a Sunday afternoon in shock over a man that I barely knew.
By Tuesday morning, the recurring conversations about the tragedy had taken hold and my threshold was met; I couldn’t take it anymore. Conversations were silenced. The radio was turned off. Social media was removed. It was just me and a bed looking for sleep while praying for peace.
Have you ever just stared at your desk wondering what in the hell am I doing? In walks Wednesday in all of her glory. Yet another presentation ahead to be prepared to impress my one my only, my boss. Le sigh. Why I even managed to sketch the outline for my personal year. Goals are everything when you can touch them in bold color.
Thursday with her maddening effect and grueling grind brought me to the doorstep of Dunkin Donuts begging for caffeine/fuel on a Friday morning. Here I lay. My meanderings a mere memory from yesterday as I try to grasp the direction of my life.
Is the direction right? Can I be more? Will the NFL give me money? Yes and hell to the no. None of this stops the earth from moving around the sun. The seconds are still going tick tock on the clock. My life is still my own to live as I see fit. What I see, is a protection of self and glasses of wine….a bottle.”