Spin baby spin

Every morning I check my horoscope on two websites. Hardly ever are they in sync and if they are it’s usually me drawing a distant parallel between the two so that the positive nature of the message may better form my day. 

I am a planner; I like to know what’s going to happen and this daily joke-book look into my future opens the curiosity door for a few minutes. It doesn’t pattern my day, like stepping on the scale once did, but it reminds me of the wonder of what we simply do not understand about ourselves.

Like, why do good people suffer and bastards win the lottery? How is it that there can be so many opinions about just one thing? Why is it that when somebody is really nice, I’m suspect of their motives; maybe they are just being nice? And, when our stomachs are full why do we ask for more?

I want more; I want everything, is that so bad? I’m humble enough to ask, why me and realistic enough to ask, why not me? Maybe what we are is nothing more than mice scrambling up the pegs of a roulette wheel while the gods take a spin. Some of us hold on to the same life-long peg and never let go and some of us jump from peg to peg thinking that movement discerns the outcome. I have come to realize that sitting still or scrambling has nothing to do with which number comes up; it’s the spin baby, it’s the ride around the circle that life is about. 

But I wonder when I click on my sign, for just a fleeting moment I think, this is the day. This is the day the heavens will open up, the angels will sing and the sweet syrup of dreams fulfilled will flow across my plate, for me, for my family and for mankind. 

Pancakes, now I’m in the mood for pancakes. What are you having for breakfast?