Maybe I am crazy.  The thought occurrs to me from time to time.  I have even been accused of it, by friends, family and acquaintences…mostly in jest of course. Or, in the midst of a heated discussion.  So, today, approximately a month before my 62nd birthday, I have decided to confront the possibility head on.

If waking up each morning, with a head full of ideas, a mental list of what I need to today, what I want to do today, what I don’t want to do today, what others expect of me today…and everything in between….means I am crazy, well, there you have it. I am certifably crazy.   If ,in the first fifteen minutes of rising, art, politics, my home, my kids, my grandchildren, my clients, my dog, my yard, exercise, food, books, the season, the weather, my morning coffee, plans for dinner, things I need to pick up at the store…..today’s appointments, tomorrow’s meetings, laundry…….all bouncing around in one busy mind….distract me so much from focusing on getting from my bedroom to the kitchen to make coffee, with several detours on the way, make me crazy. Again, confirmed.  If wishing I could throw my dog into the car and drive cross-country today…just to get the hell out of town, without telling a soul where I am going, means I am crazy, I am.

Or, am I, or is something else “Just ain’t right?”