Distant Davy

Davy never puts his feelings out there until he is certain, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there's no risk of rejection. In other words, Davy just never puts his feelings out there ... at least not anymore, and he never gets rejected, which is kinda the plan. It's like having a perfect record, really -- zero risk, zero rejection -- and on most days that feels like enough. But on some days that perfect record doesn't feel so perfect. Sometimes he secretly wishes he was one of those people who could just throw their feelings out there, come what may, and deal with the consequences later ... but usually, not so much. I believe there's a wee bit of Davy in every last one of us.

Davy's now in a nearly empty newsbox at the old CVS on 17th Street Causeway and Andrews Avenue ... just dropped him there after an un-great marathon day. I don't wanna say it sucked, but it did .... Not only was it ridiculously long and seriously lacking in redeeming qualities, but it is SO not over. So I'm gonna go try to re-work the minor attitude that set in late this afternoon and get with the program, because that's the only way I will ever get through a week that is shaping up to be overwhelming.

I think people once got through days like this by telling themselves that it's only temporary, and it was. But now, so many of the uglier things don't seem temporary ... Instead they feel like part of a slippery slope into a steeper downward slide. But gotta keep holding onto that little piece of rail on the side and trying to inch ourselves back up ... 'Cause, really, what the hell else are we all gonna do? Tomorrow's a brand new day. Keep on saying it. Keep on believing it.