Somewhere other than here...

I'm knee-deep in the middle of a Walter Mitty kind of day.

Oh, I want to be elsewhere. I get like this sometimes, when the Black Dog raises its ugly head, and life or music or a sappy old movie can't chase the feeling away.

I wanna put on my old overalls and John Deere hat, grab the fishing pole and a Hemingway paperback, and lose myself among rippling waters somewhere. Drink a beer, smoke a stogie, spit and cuss, and be a politically incorrect guy for a change.

Failing that, I'll take a dinner of steak and taters, a John Wayne movie on the TV and a sweet girl in my arms.

As it is, I'm stuck behind a desk, distracting myself with a sad Kenny Rogers story song, typing copy before heading to the the school board budget workshop.

I need a vacation.