The Decider

Dear J-

I can’t tell if I’m sick or the allergies are unusually vicious this year but the scratchy throat and afternoon vacancy (I’m here, but often asleep) are not good indicators. Or let’s say positive instead: we have a lot to do (meaning I have much to decide) and whether or not that’s important depends on how I work the room here. I haven’t decided on what’s the most appropriate way to approach these things, and that could be an issue, assuming I ever want to sleep again. How far would you go in order to … but what’s the right way to approach it? No one knows.

Long way out. Low clearance. Slippery shoulder. There are many warning signs from the traffic engineers who designed your roads, but all the signs that I’m getting in over my head are long past and now I’m treading water, it feels like. It’s not a comfortable feeling, to be out of your depth and trying to speak with authority about it, but it’s a skill, and I can learn it. Learn to fly and learn to recite the prayers for rain as we move right along, sowing seeds of doubt by the very words I speak. Can we get it done? Should we? what if we … instead?

There’s too many possibilities and all of them are justifiable, so by process of elimination I’d like to thank the Academy for … yeah. That’s how it goes, though. What is reality? When you’re lost in the numbers it’s almost an art, an intuitive twinge that tells you to step up and take door number one, for better or worse, that’s what television has told me. Decide. Decide. Decide.

Mike

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