<em>Mentsch tracht, Gott lacht.</em>

There have been numerous versions of this Yiddish proverb, but this one is my favorite.

"Man plans, God laughs."

<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/heart-breaking.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-full wp-image-930" title="heart-breaking" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/heart-breaking.jpg" alt="" width="218" height="176" /></a>Any time you work and work to get your life in order, so that there won't be any nasty surprises, you can figure something will happen to throw off your well-laid plans.

It isn't as if anything in particular has happened, but for some reason, my 62nd year on this planet has been getting exceedingly weird. I'm accomplishing very few of the things I really wanted to accomplish this year, and I am making tremendous progress in areas that really don't matter very much.

I have no trouble blogging or writing witty remarks on political sites, but it has been three or four months since I have done any serious writing at all.

Add to that the fact that my golf game -- which really doesn't matter all that much to me -- has been improving more than I really ever dreamed it would. Every time I play now, I'm shooting in the low 80s or even better.

So what?

I broke 80 on the golf course, something I figured might take me years, but I have an important book project that is sitting there, two-thirds done, and not progressing at all.

My emotions are weirdly close to the surface in a way I don't remember them ever being. Almost every sentimental song or emotional moment in a movie brings me almost to tears, which feels very strange.

My sleep schedule is way off what I wish it were. Instead of sleeping from about 11 p.m. till 7 a.m. and then getting a good start on the day, I'm getting to sleep around 2 or 3 a.m. and waking up late in the morning.

It can't be jet lag.

I have been in the Eastern Time Zone for nearly six months now.

I love it here in Georgia, but I find myself getting sad when I realize I can't get into my car and drive down to Santa Monica or Huntington Beach. I find myself mourning the fact that I may never see the sun set out over the Pacific Ocean again.

Yeah, I know.

I wanted to be here. But part of it is that we moved to Georgia so that we could be closer to our children during the time they spend in Washington, D.C., between tours. Well, it will be another year and a couple of months before Pauline's tour in Indonesia will be finished and a little longer than that before Virgile is done in Athens.

Actually, I'm excited that it looks like we're going to Europe for three weeks this summer, and two weeks of that time will be spent visiting Virgile and our daughter-in-law Sterling in Greece.

I do love it here.

I do love my life.

I just feel weird.