I’m not sinking. Not yet.

I’m certainly not swimming.

I’m avoiding the falls, and the current, just barely.

Just treading water. Trying to stay above the surface. Trying to spare and save my energy.

(Can I kill a metaphor by dragging it out or what?)

When you know what you have to do, but you can’t figure out how to do it, you flounder. And I’m floundering.

I don’t need the rescue boat to come and get me.

I don’t want to just give in and slip below the surface.

I want to just tread long enough to get to the life preserver floating ten feet in front of me.

Just long enough for me to put it on and swim to that rescue boat on my own.

To stick my hand out and grab the one reaching down.