Rag and Bone

Slight cold. Too many responsibilities. Poor attitude. Sometimes you feel like an old car too long unattended. Left out in the elements. Oxidation.  Too much history.  No prospects.

Now that my ladder's gone
I must lie down where all the ladders start,
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

William Butler Yeats
from "The Circus Animals' Desertion"