Hoop Game

The sock flies, once again, wide right. A nightly routine of tossing the day's worn socks at my Cat-In-The-Hat hanging laundry bag yields, typically, one of two results - wide right or wide left. I'm destined to be a slam-dunker...yet, I keep trying from my perch on the edge of the bed, hoping to land that 3-point shot.

I've come to the conclusion that this nightly routine has become the metaphor of my newly acquired journey in life. I head in the right general direction but land to either side of the path. Bogged down in the quaqmire, I shuffle my feet toward the path, hoping to walk more easily on my trek. If only I can correct the error of my shot. Wide right, wide left. Perhaps I should get a bigger basket.