Future

6:27am Tuesday morning. To that point I had focused on my past, trying to live in the now and make everything I had done prior fit or have meaning. I wanted life experiences to be pieces of a puzzle. I wanted to believe who I was and who I would become were connected. But the past is gone for a reason and making the present, or even the future conform to what was left behind is foolish. And dangerous.

Arrogance

8:52am Monday morning. How arrogant is it to be a “writer?” To say I can put words on a page in such a way that you will be impressed enough to pay me money? When I am at my default setting I write but what does that mean? It is a magnificent struggle to get just get started writing. And it is even more of a haul to produce something decent. The high of creating quickly abates. There is no real long term benefit for being a “writer.”

Saturday morning

9:25am Saturday morning. Just after eating breakfast I started returning messages from last night, which didn’t take long because it was the weekend. Saturday was the first real day of rest i could recall having in a long while. I had made plans to meet up with a friend that afternoon. She texted to say her schedule had changed, and that she would probably meet me later, or possibly not at all. I didn’t mind, she wasn’t that close of a friend.

Friday morning

5:57am Friday morning. I couldn’t go back to bed Friday morning because my phone buzzed repeatedly. Feeling annoyed I quickly dressed and, without much thought otherwise, set out on a walk. It was early, the street was quiet, and I made my way east in the darkness. For a moment I thought I saw a woman across the road. But a brief flicker of headlights proved otherwise. I was as alone outside as I was in my apartment before I left.

Coffee

8:35am Thursday. On my way down the hill, just before work, I ran into Tara, a social worker on staff. It was fortuitous we met. I had papers she needed to sign. She said she was running late but would catch up with me at 8:30. A short time later she texted to tell me it would be closer to 9. Then 9:15am. For the most part she isn’t very punctual; or reliable. But she is friendly and I enjoy talking with her. Besides, finding social workers of any caliber can be challenging.

The Auditor

6:08am Thursday morning. At that point the auditor came in. It had been rumored she was difficult to get along with and not very well liked. But when you talk with her she appears pleasant and accommodating. She singled me out because I was the director. I listened to what she had to say and dutifully answered her questions. I found her pleasant enough and had no reason to question her sincerity. Her name was Joyce. She wore a black silk face covering over her mouth and nose, which made me notice her hazel eyes and red hair. She had on a green pant suit and was pulling a computer bag behind her. After getting seated in the conference room she began to set up her computer for the audit.

Life Path

5:59am Tuesday morning. Light streamed through slender clouds that signaled the new day’s dawn. And in that moment I realized the beautiful truth; Life was worth living because it was unpredictable. If there was a right path to take in life what then? Time would march forward with dull predictability. There would be no new day. Existence would repeat the same moment over and over until all life was snuffed out in a soulless uninspired end. But a life without a perfectly good path offered something better, a taste of the unknown. Such a journey resulted in more pain but wasn’t that the point? To struggle, to fail, to fall apart only to find the peace so desperately sought? The terrible path if life provided contrast, a dark background of gloom that made happiness so much more vibrant.