When I was a kid, there was a toy I saw advertised on TV. It was a child-size inflatable/plastic clown that you punched which, once hit, would fly backward only to right itself. The children in the ads looked like they were having a swell time walloping on the clown. This toy may still be around and it’s possible I’ve remembered it inaccurately but in my mind’s eye, it’s a smiling clown figure. We never owned one – doesn’t strike me as the kind of thing my parents, or mother at least, would have sanctioned. I suppose I could Google it now to see if I recalled toy correctly or to find a picture but I really don’t feel like it and skipping that step is not gonna hurt the rest of my point.
My point being there are sometimes periods in my life – a day or a week or a month – when I feel like I am that clown and a giant fist keeps swinging up, seemingly out of nowhere and socking it to me. I reel back, stunned, and then straighten out my bearings again, only to take another one on the kisser. Sort of like this: