The Normal Life

Last night's Blue Moon wore me out.  This morning I am trying to recover.  A little bit of experience lasts me a very long while.  The next day is always difficult for me, and not just physically.  I spend a lot of time processing.  I am like that, so very sweet and delicate.  I am a good observer and a reluctant participant.  I like going out and seeing what people do, but I am very much a loner.  Morning brings the headache and the heavy limbs and the lingering smells and the guilt and regret as well as the happiness that I can still get an invitation to the party.  Maybe more than anything else, I am glad to be invited.

I'll have much more to say about last night, just not this morning.  I gathered rich material that I can use to good purpose, but I am still mapping the natives and trying to make sense of my notes.

It was a fitting end, though, to the most stressful two weeks I've gone through in memory.  And now, perhaps, I can return to "normal."  You know.  The Romney life.  And truly, there is much to be said for that.  I don't denigrate it at all.  Not the living of the life.  It is the insistence that others live it that is the crime.  I've used the Robert Frost quote before, but I love it: "Everything must go to market."  Live your life.  If it looks good, others will want it.  But everybody doesn't like the same pair of shoes.  People bet on different horses.  That's what makes the horse race.  Still, I don't mind the "normal" life.

I just like sneaking out the back door from time to time.