One of those days

Have you ever had one of those days in which you and the world are out of synch? When nothing works right? Today is one of them. And I can’t find anyone for a little help. My car won’t start. It’s the weekend and all businesses are closed. It’s unbearably hot outside. And just as I finished writing the preceding sentence, the a/c quit working. Then the phone rings, and I hear the sound of someone hanging up. I try to call back, but it’s a blocked call. So I say “f**k it” and jump back into bed. And the bed collapses,

Yeah, today is one of them.

Could it be that I am just irritable? My left eye is still burning. My ears are ringing.  My knuckles are sore. My back hurts. I have post nasal drip—from one nostril only. My .#$%! glasses won’t stay on. And suddenly I recall that my colonoscopy is scheduled for execution in 48 hours—to be performed by that little beady-eyed in-network doctor who looks and acts gay as hell.

Robert Frost’s words come to mind: “Lord, forgive me all those little jokes I played on you, and I will forgive that big one you played on me.” They don’t help. I ponder suicide options—the messy v. the efficient. One requires courage while the other is too complex for my present state of mind. I conclude I’m stuck with who and what I am: a coward who can’t think straight.

So I return to square #1. Be calm. Wipe those tears from your left eye. Suck it up and face the facts. All this is temporary. This, too, shall pass. Exhale. Now make yourself a cup of coffee. Remember that giving yourself instructions in your hour of need is not a sign of insanity. It’s close, but you’re not there yet.

Ahhh. That coffee tastes good. Why not try singing a song? There’s nobody around. Give it a go. Frank won’t mind. He’s been gone for 12 or 14 years. I clear my throat: …”it’s a quarter to three, there’s no one in the place ‘cept you and me.” Suddenly I realize I’m not all alone. OMG! There stands that wickedly good-looking lady who has been giving my fantasy quotient fits for the past 16 years. She’s looking gorgeous! And here I sit—bare-assed naked! What could be worse, or better?

“I let myself in,” she said in a whisper. “I hope you don’t mind.” Then she cooed: “I see you’re ready for anything that doesn’t require clothes. Would I be correct?” She lowered her eyes with a smile.

I stammered “Yes, of course.” Followed by “No, or course not.” Obviously, I was now both naked and confused. She was relentless. “Well, which is it, yes, or no? I haven’t got all day.”

“It’s yes. I mean I think it’s yes,” I managed to say. “You think it’s yes?” she repeated my words. “If that’s the best you can do, then I’ll be on my way.” As she turned to leave, I shouted “Wait! Wait!”

“Wait for what”” my wife said standing there beside our bed.

I looked up through my good right eye. “OMG. Was I dreaming?” I asked sheepishly.

“Either that, or Captain Willy is getting ready for the charge of the Light Brigade,” she smiled while nodding her head in the direction of our favorite soldier standing at attention.

As she walked away, I realized once again there is a strange thin line between truth and fiction that has often rescued scoundrels and writers from the rest of humanity. It is the curse known as "the dream ending."