With all the talk in the media about our impending economic recession, I’m seriously considering the start of my own personal recession. There are lot of places in my life that could use a little contraction. I’ve been threatening for a while to do something about the steady, yet stealthy, inflation of my waistline. The physical stuff in our house seems to replicate exponentially, despite the multiple cubic yards of trash that leave each week during our umpteenth attempt at a house purge. Even one of my pure passions — music — is on the verge of giga-burst as my 80GB iPod approaches its limit that once seemed infinite.
Perhaps I’ve reached American nirvana — a metaphysical state of imminent explosion where you’ve reached your personal limit as mind, body and environment approach too much.