I’ve lost my funny, you guys.
It tiptoes around the edge of my consciousness like the wisp of a dream I can’t quite remember. Bits of ideas, a sentence or two, but nothing I can grab onto with two hands. Nothing that turns into a paragraph, let alone a blog post.
I got a big fat nothing.
I’ve been pretty sick for the last week or so – gotta love those sinus things that morph into full on ugly – but it’s more than going through a box of tissues every other day. It feels like the solemn has dug in deep and settled in the pit of my stomach.
It seems like day after day of disaster. Riots in our cities, terrorist attacks across the world. Flooding, hurricanes, people whose lives have been torn apart. A country where some people enjoy more equal rights than others, and then yesterday’s news that we had yet another mass shooting on our hands.
I stood on that street with my kids this summer. I pictured them and I pictured the mayhem, and I just checked out.
Time to work on righting my world again.