It’s a sad state of affairs to be sure.

I wish that I felt like this:

Lying around in a soft meadow, the warm sunlight on my face, the moist delectable smell of dirt rising up from under the grass, sniffing and occasionally eating a violet. A particularly good spring feeling that possibilities are endless and that life is truly fine.

Instead I am stuck here:

Right smack dab in a pricker bush. And worse, every time I start to crawl out and brush off; something bungs me right back in. Just lately while I’m lying there still stunned and thinking “What the bugger am I doing back here??” someone/thing kicks me in the head a few times for good measure. And they aren’t even considerate enough to wipe the mud off their boots first.

It’s a tiny bit hard to take. Still it is somewhat hopeful that I am persisting in my attempts to crawl out. If only hope were enough. Good thing I’m terribly stubborn.