Down to the last one. Yellow stains on my pants that mysteriously appeared. A tick crawls across my arm.  Operating under any condition, good or bad. I am writing down a list, a maintenance check if you will. Today I stopped keeping track and I started keeping track. I haven't been sober this long since January. That's hardly what I care to keep track of. I'm on track. They are screaming "I'm in love with you," out of the window. For the first time in awhile I looked up for a second but immediately looked back down at my own two feet. Clear, focused and no depression. Back to an all organic diet and back in NY and offering moving services while I finish paperwork on workers comp and a lawsuit. I guess my testosterone dropped and my brain was scrambled. I almost forgot how to be a man for a minute. I am strong and calm in the face of the storm, my breaths are deep, the arrow glides across the wind after a smooth release. I know peace here, in the eye of the storm. This is my familiar place, this is a million dollars worth of training, priceless knowledge and skill that can rarely be learned and when learned it cannot be unlearned. There's no need to go back over a mistake over and over and over to try to figure out what went wrong. If you can't see the error the first time then just let it be. The more we stay distracted from the present, the less likely we are to give more energy into our future. The days blend together and the dreams are still haunting, this big black chonk of a dog  even nudges his way into my subconscious. What's the difference if I grab you or you grab me, either leads to a harmonious dance.