A Frazzled Mind

Not an eternal mind.  Not a spotless mind.  No, not even a mind that is a terrible thing to waste.

Rather a mind, seemingly, in a perpetual state of intense bombardment from the Mothra of suburban, middle class realities.  My job.

On the work front, the economy is now going on 4 years of massive, unending volatility and uncertainty.  The constant drone of my clients' fear echoes its torturous rhythmn in a never ending parade of dread.  Every night, I go to bed thinking tomorrow will be the day it gets better.  The sun rises.  Tomorrow comes...and it's not the day.  So you do it all again.  It's Groundhog Day.  Only more frightening and real because it's happening to me.  If you are a broker, an agent, a financial advisor, you know exactly what I mean.  If not, I do know that the pressures of the world spread across the work spectrum and this whiny fit is not my province alone.  Just know that, for me, it exists and it leaves one's mind a frazzled goo.  Creativity?  Judge for yourself in reading these words!

Now, as a mental palatte cleanser, I offer this "soup and crackers"  story in six lines or less.

Never before told.  One night, I believe in 1977, I had transmitter duty at KRCU in Cape Girardeau, Missouri.  This involved logging the plate current and power output every hour on the hour.  And I did note the readings, until about 8:30pm when my friend Jeff came by with a bottle of tequila and a yellow, plastic lemon holding artifical lemon juice.  The next thing I remember is lying on the floor at 5:00am, the dried remains of regurgitated taco pooled by my mouth.  Somehow, the transmitter got turned off.  The chicken scratches where notes should be gave no clue.  I really love radio!  (okay, seven lines!)