Gray

Last night, I had just a little trouble sleeping.  Not the sort of trouble that is horrible, just enough to make you aware that you are having trouble sleeping.  Bad dreams, probably.  As I lay in bed, I would try rolling over onto my broken side, my broken shoulder finding better angles, my ribs deciding to seemingely protrude less, I thought about what now gave me pleasure in life.  The list was not as long as it used to be.

I have lost much of my pride.  I don't walk with the same confidence that I used to, but there is something else.  At the gym yesterday, I saw all the young, strong bucks lifting heavy weights to thicken their growing muscles from my post on the treadmill.  After a lifetime of it, I didn't care.  Are they tough?  Step in front of a truck and find out.  That is what I have now.

So the fun stuff in life no longer based in superior athleticism.  Nor looks, I guess.  So what made the short list?  Communication, written and visual.  That seemed to top the nighttime list.  

The day was gray.  I communicated nothing.  I may, someday.