Cattywampus.

That’s the word I woke to this morning. There it was, like some kind of dictate, skittling about, all askew in my just-waking mind.

It’s a Dad word. Some adjective he’ll toss out once in a while to describe something not quite in order.

No school today for Jeb. He rode as a passenger. I attempted to execute errands. Providence, it just scoffed at plans.

Three scheduled meetings cancelled, and I discovered the health insurance company has been trying to call me for three weeks but dialing the wrong phone number.

I kick myself only after being excessively honest to the medical reviewer by disclosing I had mono when I was fifteen. A minor fact that is something, like, twenty-five years long-since past. Talk about over-sharing.

There was no traditional 4am post to the Archives this morning. Heck, I’m here drinking coffee at 6:20 pm, while a precocious rooster chick stares at me, chirping from a nearby perch in my living room. Huh?

Am I suggesting that, perhaps, there was some harbinger of the day with that whispered word the minute I woke? Maybe.

Here I am, at day’s end calling on the Muse. Trying to write something meaningful about how today has been just a little different than the norm.

My iTunes library is on shuffle (though, I never usually listen to music and write). In this moment, what’s been selected is a Jeb single from the Black Eyed Peas, “Boom Boom Pow”.

Like I said, cattywampus.