Round and Flat

Sometimes there are moments in a day where I realize that time is passing by, with no productivity.  Sometimes, the world keeps on spinning without my having recognized that another hour has passed.  I believe this is sometimes referred to as being on auto-pilot.

At work, auto-pilot is good.  It makes the day go by faster, and in general, there is much productivity.  Yet, 8, 10, 12 hours are gone, never to be returned.

For some reason, that gives me the vision of a balloon deflating - - air and bouyancy gone so very quickly.  The balloon is black in this vision.

Sleep - another 7, 8 hours gone.

Where is the air?  Where is the bouyancy? 

I face another full day, having already worked two hours, and already feel deflated.  After a 3 hour drive to Richmond, I will be refilled, and by the end of the night, when I slide into that big King size bed, alone, I'll be just a deformed piece of rubber ready to dream and refill.

Even the full balloons, gliding in the sky, free and floating, eventually pop, or sink down to the ground, far from where they left and remain there until someone picks them up and throws them in a landfill.

I don't want to be a balloon.

But today, I feel like one.