My feet have been asleep for the past 20 minutes and it is really putting a damper on my lunch break. All I wanted to do was come home, take a slab of raw steak, and reenact Planet Earth. But instead, I had a salad. And I blame that salad for putting my feet to sleep. F**kin ranch dressing.
But my feet taking a nap is kind of like my life as of late. I haven't really been all there. It is like part of me is taking a nap, and the other part is mindlessly rolling through the ins and outs of the working man in his day to day. Coffee, copies, casework, print. The CCCP of my life. Somewhere, a historian is flipping out that I used the Russian acronym for the Soviet Union. But who doesn't like a cute little play on Soviet history? Lenin would have laughed. Stalin? Eh, not so much.
But back to the mindless repetition, it really is a bummer. I've lost that urge to create and design, and it has been replaced by an unwanted need to eat and sleep the second I hit my own door. It's almost pathetic to watch your own childhood dreams fade to reality- like a monochrome rainbow, with a pot of news papers at the end. All is not lost, my friends. As i am hopeful that this is merely a temporary slump.
Hell, I can feel my big toe already.
© blake jackson
