Sometimes I feel like I am a giant baseball and everyone and everything around me is holding a giant baseball bat. I feel like I am thrown in one direction only to be beat into another. Or, rather, I am a giant tennis ball and everyone and everything around me is holding a giant tennis racquet. Because, you see, the moment I am beat in one direction I am immediately beat right back, after, of course, a firm, hard bounce off the ground. Before I am even aware of it, I am being beat back and forth and back and forth until someone misses their swing and I fly off the court and stop, only to discover that I am momentarily free. As a tennis ball there is nothing in my power that I can do to escape the inevitable blows of the tennis racquet. All I can to is submit to it; to continue to fly and bounce through the air and pray to God in heaven that someone misses their swing. God please. Let them miss their swing.
The snow is back and everything looks just as it should in true February fashion. The trees stand tall and dark in stark contrast to the freshly made snow as the earth stares ever so monochromatically into my eyes. I look right back, my eyes peeking out from underneath a heap of warm clothes. All is right with the world.
Caruso lost a shoe AGAIN last Friday and will hopefully get it on tomorrow. That's the 3rd time in the last month and a half. What a doofus. Then it's back to work. Maybe we'll make some progress?
6 comments:
Andy
If it makes you feel any better.
We all feel like ping pong balls.
Its part of being an adult in the working world. Welcome to it!
Winter is hard in the northern US so learn all you can from Joachen and then move back south when the time it right!
Lynnette
YAY! Im an adult!
Wow, as usual, a great, though frightening, visual image. I felt like that today a little, great progress at work and then BAM! Knocked off my feet wondering what hit me. Hmmm...in my metaphor I'm walking forward and things are hitting me. In yours, you're the ball. I guess the upside is you get to move a lot faster than me, but you're not sure which direction you're going. And tennis balls and baseballs were created to be hit. They can't move on their own. Hmmm...to many metaphors too late at night.
Know this, my baseball/tennis ball son, you are loved and your life has great purpose. Hang on!
I like to think of myself as a big colorful pinata that little kids keep wacking till I give them what they want (candy..in the case of the pinata). but i like the tennis/baseball metaphore too.
But I dont really want to give them candy....so I keep getting wacked.
hang in there james spellman.
--Shannon
ps: i think i might get a blog...i like this stuff
nice analogy. i hope they miss, and soon. shannon, get a blog. yay.
My brother once threw somebody's shoe in a big bush and he got into a lot of trouble.
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