I am eating up my retirement account.
I am wishing my nephew a happy
birthday. Each day there is a
2.46% chance that it will be
the birthday of either a nephew
or a niece (not counting great
nephews or great nieces – is
that what you call them?).
I have turned our bed into
my office. I spent all night
over a week ago going through
a two foot stack of papers and such,
sorting and appropriately filing the
papers and such while also drafting
a new ‘to do’ list. After over a week,
all I have of the list is still just its
initial draft. I feel that I may be
too close to tell if I’m obsessive
or neurotic and, if so, whether
either of these is a problem or not
(either in the grand scheme of things
or relatively speaking). I am just
a little bit emotional this morning
for some reason. But not bad. I’ve
just had my biggest workweek, at
least in several years. If not ever.
I’m going to try to remember this
place. Anyway, rather than –
I have no idea what I was about
to write – I took a sip of the
strawberry lemonade and
it all went away.
