Out of Control Freak

I'm a pretty instinctive type-a-guy ya know... Last week it occurred to me to see if a friend needed any models for haircuts. I could have waited. I could have paused and delayed but Instinct took over. Turns out she was just so in a need of a gifted young handsome long-haired chap for the following day. She said I'd do instead. And then the other morning I awoke thinking of a friend of mine so long out of touch and so sorely missed. Vowing to rectify and spread the electronic love, I trotted down to the computer to find my inbox glowing with her over-flowing wishes of warmth. But let's cut the crap. What is this illusion of control I live under? Like I have any say over these occurrences; I make appointments, set alarms, schedule meetings, all in a bid to defy the great unknown that corrupts my carefully penciled diary. I am powerless, I have an inherent inability to change the most mundane details of my life, other than perhaps the cereal I choose in the morning. I am a kitten in a washing machine, and Someone just pressed the spin cycle. The people I meet, the wake from sleep, the love I keep, all totally unguessable and yet somehow foregone. Life happens to me, to thee, to us, and thus we either embrace or about-face this fact, so roll with the punches baby and bring it all on.