The day has crowned with blessings and promise
But the Merry-Go-Round’s already upon us
The center stays calm, so that’s where I stand
Roulette in my palm decides where we land

Dizzy, I falter, slump to my knees
Facing this altar, cold toes now freeze
In circles I spin, oh, this web that we’ve spun!
This life I’ve been giv’n is a gun set to stun

Plans full of maybe’s, my promises vain
Caught in a vortex, I spiral again
Each morning the same yet still a surprise
I’m safe from this game till I open my eyes

Sigh.

I finally got the dreaded letter from my kids’ school, kindly informing me that excessive tardiness is a problem. It’s hard to explain to functional adults that my trajectory each morning begins as a flat spin. I recover enough to show up, but I can’t blame Goose for getting nervous.

Getting that letter felt like Goose taking me aside halfway through Top Gun: “I’ve got to be straight with you, Mav…I just hope [they] graduate. [You’ve] got a family to think about. [You] can’t afford to blow this.” It’s not like I’m flying against a ghost. It’s just that when it’s time my shadows flee, they cling tighter to me.

[And in case you think I pulled this film comparison out of nowhere, I actually say, “Talk to me, Goose,” when I’m trying to make one of the many daily decisions that threaten my forward progress. He has informed my apparel choices, my food selections, and even the title of this blog post. I hope he helps me buzz through the next dozen things I need to do even if the pattern is full.]