message in a bottle

Life on the island of Stumble Trip is not going well.  Part of me wants to say a whole lot about the specific issues I’m facing here and part of me would like to keep some semblance of dignity.  So I will skip all the not so sexy details, the three days in bed over winter break, and land on something solid we can work with: the island is facing a population crisis and I can’t live like this.

Things have to change, that little infection I can’t quite kick needs to go away.  It needs to pack its little bags and take its buddies with it, especially that stomach ulcer who keeps popping his head out from behind the palm trees & the creep who is fogging up my kidneys.  This island just isn’t big enough for all of us.  I have plans for this place it really could be paradise but right now it’s a disaster.  Believe it or not I have been doing everything I should do to not have this happen.  What is bringing me down is STRESS.   

I know it is dangerous to question this but are we at the bottom yet, any more coming my way?  I just ask because when we do reach the bottom I’m going to use that barrel it comes to pack these guys up and ship them off.             

Funny, I feel better already.  I think later today I might take a run along the shoreline of this little island, get a good look around.  If this is what I have to work with, if this is where I am then it is a damn fine thing that I like a good challenge...

~Physical heal thy self~ Aesop’s Fables, The Quack Frog