Sometimes it happens while driving an automobile... This morning I felt my mind return. It has been gone for nearly thirty days. I have missed it. It has been lonely in my head without my mind: like shooting free throws alone in an empty gym at midnight or fishing along a muddy creek on a moonless spring night, your sputtering lantern the only light source on the planet earth. I have missed the games of catch I usually play with my mind. It is fond of fastballs precisely targeted for nose and nuts, changeups in fastball counts and tossing the severed head of a chicken when I figured on horsehide. I have missed my mind. I wonder where it went, the exotic ports it called on, the dazzling and dangerous adventures, the wine, the women and the songs while I sat brooding on a brown leather sofa debating the relative merits of another glass of mineral water versus a cup of coffee or just sitting until the coroner’s office comes to claim me. O meritorious choices! I hate when my mind leaves me. It leaves quite often, too often. When my mind leaves me, I feel so ordinary. I crave civil service examinations, the resurrection of my stamp collecting hobby and the purchase of a minivan in a drab, uninspiring color. I want to imbibe gallons of flat, warm tap water and subsist on prepared, microwaveable food heavy with fat and sodium. I want to get ten hours of sleep a night, take two three hour naps during the day and watch infomercials for my eight waking hours. I want to let the newspapers, grocery store flyers, mail and collection notices pile on the front porch. Ultimately though, I want my mind to return, end the boredom, salt in color, gratuitous explosions, pungent cooking aromas and a dash of mania. This morning, during my commute to work, I felt my mind return. I’ll see everyone later. Hold my place in line.