The Anti-Midas Touch

Have you ever had one of those days? A day when nothing seems to go right, and the world narrows to the width of your shoulders? Yesterday was that sort of a day for me. I had the anti-Midas touch, everything I had a hand in turned to s**t. From the debacle that was the start of the day at work, through the mess that my carefully crafted schedule became, the day was one long series of almosts and might haves.

Still, the day ended on an up note, Mags and I sat down to a good meal, watched a funny show on TV, and then I went to bed and got the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in about a week. All-in-all a Thank God That’s Over sort of day. Yet something about it is still troubling me.

Things are looking up between Mags and myself. She seems to be genuinely responding to my requests that she make me a priority in her life, and also seems to really appreciate my efforts to respond in kind. Still, something is troubling me, like that unidentified ache that you can’t quite pinpoint, but you know is there. Something has been keeping me up, staring at the ceiling for the past week or so. I’m tired when I wake up, but unable to get to sleep the night following despite my exhaustion.

Something is out of kilter in my life, something I can’t define. I’ve chewed over all the data I can find, and sill can’t see what’s happening. I’m feeling a strong craving for the new and different, and feel as if something is missing. I guess I need more data