Futility...

     Of the many subjects out in the great big world that I can write about, I am drawing a blank.   Right now, I can't think of any, and I have had my coffee.  In fact, I think I am going to go pour my second cup.  I don't feel motivated to write just now.  My mind is drawing a blank, which is a situation that many people have stated is my normal state of mind.  Its not, I can assure you but it is close.  I think I need to play more golf.
     Ahhh, that's better.  There is something about a good hot cup of coffee.At this point, I won't go off on a tangent of talking about coffee.  That would be unfair to you. I have written almost two paragraphs and have said a whole lot of nothing about anything.  But, at this point I don't have a topic to write about.
     I guess the whole writing process for me is futile for today. Hey, wait a minute I may be on to something. Is futility a topic?  Give me a minute here to think--futility, hmmmmm.
     The dictionary defines futile as being incapable of producing success or result: of being useless, ineffective or not successful.  Futility comes out of that definition. OK, we have the definition, now what am I going to do with it.  I don't know. I think I will take another sip of my coffee. I do need to get this written because "The Price Is Right" will be on in thirty-one minutes.
     How about some acts of futility? Housebreaking my chihuahua, now that was an act of fertility.  Who invented the chihuahua anyway? Keeping a twenty something year old son fed, whether a step-son or my own son is a lesson in futility.  It seems as though the tank is never full. I must be an optimist on this one, because with them the tank is always half full, never half empty. By the way, where did all the Fruit Loops go?  That box was full yesterday.  Hold on, the phone just rang.
     Writing this today would fall into the category of futility.  I just get on a roll and something happens.  Now, Price Is Right is starting so I guess trying to go any farther with
this is futile.

Moving a piano, a

possible lesson in futility.  I think that the piano moved us.