Thunder Only Happens when it's Raining

I heard this song on the radio this evening and realized for the first time that thunder happens when it's not raining. It sometimes foretells the approach of rain. Or sometimes tells of a storm passing you by but raining on others. And sometimes it's the sign that nature is churning, working up to a storm to be announced at a later time. Storm in the works. But thunder happens.

Apologies to crockpot readers. I've got a case of the Sundays something fierce. The Sundays occur pretty regularly on Sundays - the inevitable end of free time to be replaced by the work week brings on a bout of the blues at the prospect. I also feel like this Lent's crockpot is suffering from an interminable case of the Sundays, in spirit at least. My heart doesn't seem to be in it this year. Or at least it doesn't seem to be pouring out on the page. More like flopping around like a dying fish. Not good reading folks.

A recurring life theme for me seems to be the interplay and confusion of intention, obligation, happy coincidence, effort, guilt, want, fear, and self loathing/self adulation. I guess kind of like thunder, the blogosphere does not always guarantee a satisfactory resolution to these sometimes competing and sometimes complementary factors.

But it is true that players only love you when they're playing.
That we can all agree on, right?