I was born into the wrong generation.

This became clear when I went to college.

Everyone around me was getting their degree

in Economics or Business, eager to graduate,

work for a big corporation, and rake in the dough.

Me, I was there to learn, expand my mind,

with dreams of someday, somehow changing the world.

It wouldn’t have hurt me to learn some finance while I was at it,

but I had my head in the clouds while my cohorts

were me-me-me-ing.

You’d never know the Me Generation

was my generation.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Tenth grade. Cheerleader tryouts.

White polo shirt, green & white striped shorts,

hours of practice.

I was a shoe-in.

Five years later I’d be accepted into the prestigious

Juilliard School

on the strength of my dance audition,

but for the cheerleader tryout judges,

it was popularity that counted.

I cried for a week when I got the verdict.

The biggest disappointment of my life til then.

The year I was at Juilliard I got a card in the mail

from one of the judges, confessing that

I should have made the cut.

By then, who cared anymore?

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

Fuzzy busy bees, buzzing, bumbling, bumper-car bugs in my brain.

Wings whirring, whizzing about, announcing themselves like a bus full of kids let loose at a playground:

“look at me! look at me! look at me!”

Running, spinning in circles, round and round, making me dizzy,

but wide-eyed, too afraid one will slip out of the gate and into traffic

to ever sleep.

So I track their frantic flight under lowered lids, until I finally give in, sit up, and grab a pen.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

It’s the gritty, sandpaper feel behind my eyeballs,

the five pound weight on my head,

the pulling, pulling, pulling on my eyelids,

the invisible hand pressing my chest,

back, back, back into the pillow.

“Go back to sleep,” it tells me, and oh,

do I want to obey!

I could drive off so easily, forget all my troubles,

float off to dreamland…

It’s so tempting, but my troubles will have multiplied

if I allow myself to give in.

So I’ll get up instead and get to work.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!

How many minutes did I sit here, thinking?

The lid of the pasta pot, sparkling with condensation.

The duvet, wrapped around your sleeping form.

The blank of darkness, hiding shapes moving through the night.

Cover.

Cover.

Cover.

Cover it up.

Sweep it under the rug.

Go under cover.

Cover the shoebox with dirt, say a prayer, decorate the tiny grave with flowers.

Cover up your feelings with a bright smile.

I’ve got you covered.

[scs_alt]

PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!