So there I was, perusing through my Facebook feed like the good little Xennial narcissist that I am, and I came upon a post that I wasn’t expecting. It was from a voluntaryist group that I belong to but almost never visit, partly because the dialogue was never supremely interesting in that one, but also because I have largely given up on libertarian FB groups. This post, however, was a zinger.
Under normal circumstances, I would not have heard about it until after sundown, but last Saturday was not a normal day at our house. My daughter’s first “big” birthday party where I invited her school friends was taking place, and I was busy running errands, making treats, and preparing for the big event.
I stepped off of the train around sunset. I was in Oberammergau, Germany, and it was the end of the line. The train tracks ended at the snow-covered station there, and I was one of three or four people who got off the train, and I was the only person not carrying skis. I had on ski pants, a heavy down coat, gloves, a hat, and a rucksack with everything I would need for the next four days except food. I had no reservations, and the sun was setting fast.
Everyone has had the experience of waking up on a particular morning with a realization and a groan that something is happening on that day, something that they don’t want to do. I definitely woke up in such a manner this morning, and it was because today was 5k day. I signed up for a 5k over in Springfield way back in like, May or June, and today was event day. I wasn’t exactly spooked, but I was far from pumped.
Okay, surprise, I’m not really dead. And I’m not planning on going anywhere for the foreseeable future. But you never know. You could get hit by a bus and wake up dead tomorrow. And in honor of Rosh Hashanah, I decided to do a little exercise in sorting myself out.