I Missed a Day

I sat here like a moron last night, watching old episodes of Nip/Tuck, and forgot to post something. But now I guess the pressure is off. I can accept that I broke my new unwritten rule, the one where I promised myself to post every day, and exhale. Move on. Because I never have trouble moving on. I accept any and all of my mistakes and treat myself with kindness and understanding and never ever ever dwell on things. It does no good, right? So logic would prescribe letting things go. Let go and let God. Or just let go and get out of God's way. Or your own way. My psyche is like a junkyard of old wrecked cars, lined up and unusable as far as the eye can see. Rusted doors hanging on one hinge, headlights busted out, weeds growing up around each wreck like cozy green sweaters. I don't even want to go there to get parts from these things to put on something else that might still be running. But I do. So I guess missing one day of posting on a blog that's being read mostly by the Google-bots in Mountain View, California is a horsefly buzzing around the hood ornament of an old pimped-up Buick. The one that was pulled from the river.