Windy Morning in the Windy City

Spotted this on the walk to work. A few moments prior to this, a pretty big gust of wind had me wobbling a bit, and nearly reaching for a nearby stop sign to balance myself.

I think that around now, each year, I forget that I have this slight phobia around strong winds. And I also forget that I wrote a poem about it.

My joke is that I’m a guy who loves his wine and pasta. And there’s really not a chance that an errant breeze is gonna pick this guy up (imagine me patting my belly right now). But still, that worry is there – that I’ll get swept away, and lifted off the earth up into the sky.

I sometimes wonder how much of this is actual fear/phobia, how much of it is a psychological thing (fear of change maybe), and how much of it is just the result of an overactive imagination.


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