Perpetual Break

I saw my reflection in the plate-glass window walking into work. This morning when I got dressed, everything checked out. What the hell happened between home and work? How could I change that much?

Those lying eyes of mine.

My term insurance ran out a few months ago. You’ve got to get a physical. They didn’t like what they saw. Apparently, my bloodwork was suspect. I have to do something. I can’t leave my wife with nothing.

I have a gym membership that I never use. I need to get in shape. Walking when I play golf counts, doesn’t it?

My mom is still living. I haven’t owned a suit for decades. Deviney, you’re going to be going to some funerals, more than likely, soon. I bought a suit. I can’t button the pants without a lot of effort.

I’ll start walking every day, just a little. Pace myself. I walk around the Rhodes University campus, two miles. I walk nine holes all the time. Nine holes feels like fun. Walking the campus can feel like I’m being punished.

Standing in front of the mirror, trying to separate reality from wishful thinking.

I’ve got a closet full of shirts that would strangle me if I buttoned the collar. Make a plan to change things. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do right after I add a mountain of butter to my baked potato. All I need is discipline. I have it, especially when it comes to golf or cocktail hour. Man, I am there! On time!

I can sit here and read what I have written so far. Why am I beating myself up? Is this some kind of confession? I don’t feel any better. Maybe this is a way to finally confront those lying eyes.

I like lying eyes better.