That Sinking Feeling

Sinking into lightness When I'm bored, I like to sit in my kitchen sink and groove on its cool porcelain presence. "I sink, therefore I am," it seems to say, and who could disagree? It makes so much sense.

When I'm feeling down, I can count on my sink to be there for me. "Sink or swim," it says, and I have to laugh. Where does it get this stuff, anyway? I don't know, but it always make me feel better. That's the main thing.

When I'm sleepy, my sink sings me a lullaby. Its gurgling baritone pulls me down . . . down . . . down into the land of nod. "Sweet dreams," I hear it say, and then I'm gone. Hook, line, and sinker.

When the cupboard is bare and I'm forced to eat dirt, my sink reminds me that everyone else is poor, except me. "Let them have their diamonds, and their fancy cars," says the sink. I know that's true, but sometimes I forget. They have everything but the kitchen sink. How sad is that?



  1. Ah, just when life was posing challenges I didn't feel up to meeting, just when I was dipping my toes into full fight-or-flight status, I checked in at OMegaword (my inner Buddhist monk had me keep that miscapitalized M!) Now I feel instantly better, having read your delightful sentences. Your porcelain words literally had a cooling effect on my psyche. Thank you so much, in all seriousness (and in all levity!)

  2. [gurgling baritone on]

    Cool, man!

    [gurgling baritone off]