I hit something on the way to work this morning.
To be honest, I don't know what it was. I caught it out of the corner of my nearly blind eye as I sped along a back road. It was dark out. And really, it didn't register that anything had crossed into my path until I felt the thud under the car. Then came the realization that something white had blurred toward me from the right side, too fast to avoid.
If I had to guess, it was probably a possum. And come to think of it, I can't remember ever seeing a live possum.
I don't think I stopped shaking for 15 minutes or so. It was like I had unwilling wielded this power to snuff out the flame of some innocent living being, perhaps one just returning home after a night of work...

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I know, I know. I've got to learn to be more responsible about this writing thing. But it's been a busy time -- what with baseball finally starting and such. And, really, I don't have all that much to say.
I think that almost every day I see something completely mundane and think "hey, I should blog about that," but you really don't want to hear me turn every brush with every single everyday happening into some life lesson that probably means absolutely nothing to you five minutes after you click off to a new page, so...
Sometimes I read through the nonsense I've put up here and wonder how seriously it can really be taken...

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