That’s with a capital C.

It’s gray outside — matching color inside.

I contemplated ordering a pad by Knock Knock to begin for the first time in my life a revenge list.

My son learned a lesson about the meanness of people yesterday and I want to throttle the culprit. No. That’s not strong enough. I want to B#$T the crap out of him.

But I have always been a proponent of nonviolence and leaving the whole karma thing to the universe. And so I will not. But I love knock knock’s take on asserting some action into a sense of helplessness. When it comes to me, I can envision a grander scheme … but when it comes to my kids? I’m not so thoughtful. I fume. I seethe. I rage. Truthfully, the list is looking better all the time — I’m beginning to see the humor in documenting the transgressions. It is a reminder that karma is not so direct. This culprit –because of his own lack of empathy and his own sense of meanness– will create his own cause and effect in the world. I know this. I have seen it enough times.

Begrudgingly, I must wish him no harm. He will bring his own suffering into his life.

So, what is really bothering me besides the gray outside my window?

For one, I am dealing with cancer again. It can be dealt with, but I am back in the orbit of cancer care.

I am a prisoner whose parole has hereby been rescinded.

I struggle again with conditions related to previous cancer care and they are all compounding simultaneously.

Little things keep arising — the well pump at the chicken coop needs to be replaced, my car needs an oil change and the few days I have off are filled with doctors, the garden needs weeding, the fence we want to put in to stop the dogs from eating everything is expensive, the hens need saddles because my rooster is careless and all anyone can come up with is putting him down or setting him free to the elements, all of which are not options, and my eyes need better attention from me — the list is endless.

And all I want to do is be home and spend time with my family.

Watch Bloodlines.

Eat popcorn and dessert for breakfast.

To write.

To research.

To live.

To dream.

And so I am avoiding life. This morning I did research for my third book. My quirky protagonist falls under the spell of a very smart crow. Well, she also falls under the spell of his sidekick who is human, but he is … well, human. What can I say? I am already in love with the bird. After watching the documentary Secret Life of Crows and watching YouTube videos and reading Corvus blogs, I now envy their lack of a neocortex.

Which reminds me to not overplay all this self-conscious angst.

The gray too will pass. And it is this precious moment we have, this life we are given, that is worthy of being grateful.

And I am.

Little problems or big problems? At least I have them.

And so I have one more thing to add to my bucket list on this stormy day … I want to witness a murder of crows.

A grand amassing of brilliant birds … now, that would be worthy of a party.