Day 126

I wish I could play the cello.  Isn’t it haunting?  It sounds the way I wish I did, like when I have something to say, but just can’t get it out.  Then I wish I sounded the way a cello did.  Low and velvet and people stopped in their tracks just to hear each cadence and hang onto each word I spoke. 

I wonder what good ole’ Anne spelled with an E would have done with a computer?  I like to think it would have thrown her for a loop.  Her ruminations were based on the type of pen she carried be it scratchy or stub or just the right kind for loving Gilbert.  I’m in a funk and its one that only I can solve.  I’m afraid of failing.  I like to end a phone conversation leaving the other person laughing, leaving a group the same way, leaving my last word as somehow profound or meaningful and if I can’t do that, I flounder.  

My thoughts are all over the place, aren’t they?  Tomorrow I get insurance and hopefully a good antibiotic.