Filling The Void

I find myself vacant today, empty of wisdom or wit. I simply have nothing I want to say.

It's not that nothing has happened in the last 24 hours. It's just that it all seems so repetitious, so mundane. Sometimes living with ALS is pretty much no different than living without it, if you take away the perpetual weakness, the wheelchair, and the distress. And some days those elements become so common, so regular, that they too take on the mask of mundanity.

Ordinary is ordinary is ordinary is ordinary. The rain falls, splattering on the streets, the car tires squishing it sideways, making tracks of water which drys quickly, leaving the streets once again a sombre surface. There are clouds above, the same as yesterday, likely to be the same tomorrow. The noises of life outside my window continue unabated.

I'm not bored. although I am, as always, tired. I have no energy, no enthusiasm for much of anything. I don't want to put out the effort to get into my truck. I don't want to bother with the transfers in and out, should I go somewhere. I don't want to get into my power chair; being outside in the rain is not as much fun as it used to be.

Like an old dog, laying on the porch of the rattling old shack beside some dusty rural pathway, I am too much gone to do too much at all. That's the day today. Void, empty, motionless.