No Train Wreck

It's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg to Danville,

And Lima's on a three-mile grade;

It was on that grade that he lost his air brakes,

You can see what a jump he made.

-The Wreck of Old 97

I had a lot of momentum Monday and into Tuesday morning, but then a few things conspired to send me right off the tracks. Confronted with a situation that's largely out of my control, I've lost some sleep and a good chunk of my positive outlook on things.

It's actually a gross exaggeration to compare things to a train wreck. If anything I'm just on an unannounced detour through some nasty, but temporary, stormy weather. Happens.

To add to it, my feet hurt. Partly because I've been doing a lot of walking, but also because I ran a little harder than I should have Tuesday morning. Realizing I'm in a bit of a funk, I'm taking things lightly until I emerge from under the clouds.

Old 97 is a true story, and the engine was pieced together after the crash to serve for another 30 years. You'll hear from me again once I've checked out of the mental salvage yard.