I was trying to figure something out last night. I lay in my bed, not even attempting to pretend that sleep would be coming anytime soon, but rather just because it seemed to be the thing to do between the hours of midnight and 7:00 AM. My cat Nugget seemed to sense that something was going on. He wouldn't leave me alone.
I lay in my bed. I played sheet monster with Nugget. Every now and then, for a while, I picked up my phone and made sure it was still working. When that got boring, I placed my phone on my chest, and I tried to figure something out. I tried to decide something.
Well, my phone never did ring. That's good for at least two reasons. The first reason is that it probably would have given me a heart attack. The second reason is that I never did figure anything out. I never did decide shit.
I really need to be careful, because this is all seeming very familiar to me. The names may have changed, but the circumstances are the same. It's like a remake of an old movie or something.
I suppose that some would call this irony. Or poetic justice, perhaps.
I, myself, would call it bullshit.
I tell myself that I need to make a choice. One or the other. A or B. I tell myself this even though I know that no choice is possible and that no choice was ever possible. What will happen is what will happen, and I have a feeling that I might be as surprised as anyone. Or maybe not. I mean, I think I know exactly which path I'd take.
But I've been wrong before. At least a couple of times.
Well, that was clear as mud, wasn't it?