So Low Before . . .

“But the clouds never hung so low before.”
- The Band, “It Makes No Difference”

. . . 37 Days . . .

I don’t know what to do. How many times have I said that in these posts? I just don’t know what to do. I’m incapacitated by a cocktail of fatigue, depression and shame. But what to do? I’m scarcely capable of making a phone call. I have to sit in my car and talk myself into the law school every day. How did I get here from August, 2005? What happened? Where did I go wrong?

I don’t know why this came to mind, but last year one time I was jogging merrily on the treadmill, on my way to seven miles, while watching The Last Waltz. An older guy came up and got on the treadmill next to me to start walking. He flicked through the channels and then glanced over at my television, obviously seeking an entertaining channel to duplicate. It was hilarious: he looked at the screen, looked at me, looked at the screen, looked at me again, and then watched the screen for the entire time I was on the treadmill. His thoughts couldn not have been any plainer: “You’re how old?” But that was back when I was a reasonable size and possessed of the ability to run and do whatever I wanted. Sigh.