Does Phil feel lucky?

For those that have noticed a drop in my BLOG quota...I offer you this little riff.

Befittingly, I drug my ass out of a self imposed hole last Wednesday, February 2nd in some sort of symbiotic wango tango with Punxsutawney Phil.

Phil, the prognosticator of prognosticators predicted six more weeks of winter. Dr. McNally, my prognostician of prognosi said that I was in fact, sick. Funny, when I finally decided to go to the see McNally last week, I didn't initially realize that it was Groundhog Dog. That realization slowly came as I sat around waiting for the Doctor, and going through the various tests.

You see, Dear Reader, Groundhog Day is one of my favorite movies. I can watch it over and over (re-watchability.) For me, the movie is a psychic rubber band pop on the wrist in my continual struggle to be in the now - to be a better person. As of late, I've been a lot like Phil (Bill Murray's character in the movie, not the giant rat in PA.) To put in in terms of the movie (if you've seen it, if not, by all means rent it,) I'd be waking up each day to Sonny and Cher's I Got You Babe on the clock radio.

It would be easy to blame the flu, but I really need to blame Stu. As it is said in the movie, "What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing you did mattered?" One of the guys in the movie replies, "That pretty much sums it up for me." Sadly, that summed up my mindset up until last Wednesday.

So, going to the Doctor on Groundhogs Day has been a fortuitous experience for yours truly - knocking my Okie ass out of some self imposed sicky funk. I'm not sure if I saw my shadow, but I do feel better. Quite possibly because of the steroids I've been prescribed. Or my one hit lung candy machine, which I would guess is akin to snorting crank. Whatever, I'm on my way to wellville, and feel like I'm about to pass Go to another day.

Until I BLOG again...BING.