The things you need to get done every day and the people you share space and responsibility with are bumpers keeping your days from the gutter. When they’re gone, even if only for the weekend, the gutterballs add up.
Nachos for dinner.
Coffee at 9 pm.
YouTube compilations of Wiffle Ball games past midnight.
It adds up to an unsettling awareness that the things keeping me from aimless, despondent, sloth are few.
One thought on “Gutterball”
Same here, Rocky. But it’s all something to write about, isn’t it? (That’s what I tell myself, and even the quiet days get written.)