SUICIDAL GRAY

Probably one of my favorite "funny things" ever is when people rename crayons with ridiculous and sometimes offensive color names.



I should've know that when I dreamt about tornadoes eating the heads off people last night that it wasn't worth getting up today. And I know that suicidal gray is a depressing name for a crayon, but that's what it has been in Rochester for the last months. One good day Friday, running outside in a t-shirt, a fuzzy caterpillar on the trail, inching across, but the rest of the days have been a suicidal gray. The fog so dense the last two mornings I can barely see 5 feet in front of the car. I thought I saw a ghost; it was a girl waiting for her bus. My own car lights blind me--it's like shining a flashlight into a mirror.

I am having a very, very bad day. Somebody has taken suicidal gray and scribbled it all over my life, and I'm just left with a dull, broken crayon. It is a bad day.