Scurrying along.

The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat.
- Lily Tomlin

That's all well and good, Ms. Tomlin, but what if you enter the qualifying competition, do really badly, and aren't even allowed to register for the rat race? Are you a species below the rat? A subrat?

Sometimes I do feel as though I never even made it high up enough the on evolutionary chain to be characterized as a rat. I'm not complaining, mind you: I want neither to be a rat nor to be racing. However, when you're peripherally involved in the rat race -- even if you're not fully immersed in the competition -- it does give you pause as to whether you're missing out on something. Yes, Polonius, to thine own self . . . but who really knows himself, despite that Greek instruction?

I don't mean to belittle the many racing rodents. There are many people who enjoy competition, or who can at least thrive alongside it. I have all the admiration in the world for them; indeed, I wish I could tolerate the race. The fact is, though, that I cannot.

So we beat on, boats against the current. I may not know myself, but I know who I am not: I am not a rat.