Ju-Ju Bee-Feces

A positive man’s positive outlook can positively nosedive for no particular reason. I’ve always found that to be a perfectly sadistic feature of optimism.

Despite a weekend of celebration of bright futures of recent accomplishments, the bad ju-ju of which I often write has returned on the back of a niggling little cold front. Things–as things go–just ain’t right.

There’s little need to present the laundry list of symptoms. Rest assured, the ju-ju has taken a turn toward Cape Horn…or perhaps just Cape Hatteras (I’d recognize the Cape of Good Hope, but that would be a little ironic in the current situation).

There remains much to do before the fabled Bradoween–3D. The list, again, ain’t worth the time spent to type it. However, following the path of the ju-ju is motivation. I’ve twice asked it to be a leader not a follower, but it seems to have selective auditory disfunction.

Tonight, I’m going to hide from th ju-ju. The wife is making herself better. The dog is protecting the front door. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day.