whoops

It was really all so long ago, but I haven't forgotten the promise of that afternoon. The sun was warm and my bag was light, empty of everything except good intentions. The highway, stretched long enough to be a cruise and not a commute, was just a gray backdrop for livin' in the future and long walks home, and if you don't catch those references, you really ought to buy a new CD. If I remember correctly, I didn't ask for much more of the day--it was, after all, a Tuesday--than the freedom it delivered; that was enough of a gift. Once I got home it's possible that I did little more than sleep. But, it's hard to say. My memory's sketchy. Don't forget it's been now, what, six days?

Just long enough to check out entirely from the work-a-day world, forget, if not what I do at least what I was doing. Where was I, exactly? Does anyone know? I have a hunch it was something about some balls in the air. That's probably even a rule for juggling-- once you get started, try not to stop. I shoulda thought of that first.