So I pretend there aren't ten strings tied to all ten of my fingers

Today, like almost every day had it's bright and dim spots. I'm surprised I've kept a fairly positive outlook given the multitudinous problems I have in this life, which I don't claim are any worse than any one's else, relatively speaking, but are, nonetheless, a real fucking drag, especially when taken collectively.

Full out despair seems to be just a breath away, but I've been able to fend it off rather successfully. Maybe it's my pure heart, maybe it's an angel on my shoulder, but I just won't allow myself to sink below a certain level. This could change at any moment, mind you -- and I fear it might -- but for now I'm doing alright.
--

Rich had been using a price gun at work rapidly and for an extended period of time. The following day he hacked at shrubs in the garden using the same hand he used for the price gun. Later that night he told Craig and I that he couldn't move his arm or bend his fingers and was in a lot of pain.

He explained that he had, for lack of a better expression, gone ape shit with the pricing gun and later with the machete in the garden. "When I decide to do something, I don't hold back", he said without a trace of bravado.

"To your peril, it seems", I said.

"You don't have any Vicadin?", he asked us.

We didn't have any meds for him, but Janelle helped him out with a muscle relaxant. He took it promptly and had Janelle help him rubber band one of those blue ice packs people put in their coolers to his arm. It was a comical sight, but we felt bad for him more than anything else. He told me the next day he almost had me take him to the hospital in the wee hours of the night, his arm was hurting so bad.

You know, this would have been a much better story if Rich had an arm wrestling tournament he was competing in the next day. I can see it now, Rich, arm hanging limp at his side, approaching his opponent. And does he lose the match? No fucking way! Through sheer force of will and a little luck, he defeats his opponent, who backs away stunned in disbelief that this chump with a lame arm beat him. You can't count people out, no matter how bad it looks. Know what I'm saying?

Take the Cavs. They're in the hole 3-1, but something tells me Lebron and Co. are not going to go quietly into that good night. If it goes to a game seven, which would be played in Cleveland, Orlando is in trouble.

Having said that, I think it's doubtful Cleveland will take the series. I love it! Not so much because I hate Cleveland, but because it would illustrate how nothing is guaranteed. Cleveland, from way back in the season, was anointed the crown by all and sundry. Still have to play the games, though, don't you?

I feel the desire to step outside on the porch with the rain and the night.

And so I will.