Back to the Cult

I made it to another meeting this week -- my first in two weeks, since I skipped the one right before Thanksgiving. The week prior, I weighed in at two pounds higher than the week before, and wound up in a black mood for days. As Dan Bern sang,

Some wild creature has taken command
I gave him the keys
And he's stomping through the house
He has a very busy itinerary
He does not have much time for You.

Those lines always come to mind when I get into my ugly, self-absorbed moods, which thankfully don't come too often. (Usually I have pleasant, self-absorbed moods.)

Anyway, I stepped onto the scale today expecting a modest to enormous gain, what with Thanksgiving dinner, the reunion, the gallon of gin that I drank...and found out that I'd lost a pound. Which is awesome and unexpected. My only explanation is that it must've been some sort of magical bird my mom cooked up.

Could it have been the one that appears about a minute into this video? I think it was.



(And really, how bout that video? Could I tie things up any better?) The world is one big circle. Ouroboros, baby.)

Rob