People all over Louisiana are celebrating Christmas and the nearness of loved ones and I am mentally pacing the floor.
At the age of sixty one downtime translates to time wasted. That combined with other things I won't touch on here have me wound tight as a drum.
I've been combing Pinterest for blog topics in an effort to get this thing moving while honing my chops. I've found a list so I'm gonna start on it right now.
A favorite picture of yourself and an interesting fact for every year you've been alive:
My last year of undergrad. I'd just started drinking again after ten or so years. My heart had been broken but I remember I still had my writing. That guy kept going, possibly because the thought of stopping was too much. It's my favorite because he persevered.
The only thing to say about the previous years is my amazement I've lived this long. I remember being twenty five doing a three mile jog home from work. My car was broke down and for some reason I wondered what I'd be like at sixty. I couldn't imagine it then. Past that now I see living has become much more acute. I literally feel the seconds slipping away. Hence the need to be back at school, learning more.
Funny how we try to hold on to things, like we have any control at all. Silly drunk old man. The trick is to appreciate it all. Every second, the bad and the good. The smiles, the lunches, even the tears carry weight, have meaning. Done.
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