...how can I sit here and...

fume over how numb my bum feels after sitting on a telephone book all day because my chair is too short;

and harbour a small but obnoxious hatred (named don) because i wore an itchy sweater this morning and now there are itchy minions trawling over my oh-so-very sensitive skin;

and bemoan my job because today i am not inspired to change the world.

sometimes I wonder.

Perhaps it is in precisely my awareness of my tush, the small of my back, the nape of my neck, the call to participate in the world, that I am saying - yes, amen, hallelujah - to life.

I am alive. I am alive. I am alive. Alive.

PS-by-the-way: this is my first post since rediscovering my blog. i must admit: i forgot. in reference to an earlier post, i suppose i've got enough community without trying to spread the tentacles of my thoughts into the crevices of internet space; i've got community that can itch my neck, hear me laugh, smell my farts, see my smile. i am blessed. enough is a feast!