The scales, that is. You know the expression, "waiting for the scales to tip?" Well, I have been. Sitting with my butt fitted into the curved platform of the scale at the bottom end, planted on the ground, wishing for balance. Working too much, drinking too much wine, not sleeping enough, wishing for balance.
Every once in a while I manage to toss some small pebble into the other side - I work on my manuscript for a few hours or make a date for coffee with a girlfriend, but the scales don't budge. Not even a tremor. I keep hoping that with every small offering I make they will add up and miraculously I'll begin to rise and find my side of the scale floating up into the air. Unfortunately, my offerings have been so few and far between that by the time I add another one, the first one has disintegrated.
These scales are too smart for me. It's time I got up off my butt, stepped off of this side of the scale and headed over to the other. Strange how when life crowds in the first things I cut out are the things that make me most human and happiest about who I am. Writing. Connecting with friends. Walking with the dog in the rain.
I don't know how long it's gonna take to get to the other side, but I'm brushing off the seat of my pants tonight. See you on the other side!