I wish I had a navigation program for life. It’d be so easy…I’d click the little app button on my phone, and the computer lady’s voice would come on telling me don’t do that, do this…go here, follow this path…warning me when bad shit’s about to happen. But life is not easily steerable. And, sometimes, it’s hard to fucking move at all. Like in my first car back in the 80s, a beige Buick Skylark with bench seats, when it lost the power steering fluid. I needed the power of Zeus to turn the goddamn wheel. You get stuck sometimes. Most times, this thought keeps things in perspective and helps: things could be worse. But once in a while, that worse thing smacks you in the face and knocks you down with no warning whatsoever. And how do you get through? I don’t know. It hurts like nobody’s business and it seems like that pain will never go away.
But it does get ever-so-slightly less painful, in time. And then you begin to move again. And you get your steering fixed. And you hug your loved ones. And you make pie.
