the day when everything fit

on going too fast in a small Honda

The picture of that day is clear to me. The sun was bright making it warm for a February. There was very little wind. The air carried a whiff of hope. It seemed to linger up, evaporating from the crystalline snowbanks turning quickly to icy slush then darkened lines on the asphalt.

I had the windows down, rolling along on my way to a meeting filled with promises of wealth and adventure. My sister got lucky / married a yuppie / took him for all he was worth, my eyes, squinted in a California pout I was there with Tom, singing along - but now she’s a swinger / dating a singer / I can’t decide which is worse.

It had the makings of a perfect day. Just diagnosed with ADHD moments earlier, it was though the shit from a thousand elephants had lifted from my chest. Things I denied, things I wanted to change, things that filled me with shame? They all seemed to have a framework that fit.

The sun was shining. The window were down. I felt great. I stepped on the gas. Sure the speed limit was 80, …