I have an update to the number of short works written this year. Make that twenty-one.
I’ve counted the number of weeks in the year so far and the answer is twenty-nine. I’ve counted the number of completed stories this year and the answer is nineteen.
I’ve counted the number of days until I leave the offspring at a college dorm and drive away and the answer is thirty-five.
I’ve spoken to my father and it will be another four weeks of physical therapy before he is sure how far his recovery will progress.
I have to make time for the people in my life.
I know what happened; I lost all momentum to the demands that were put upon me by other people this year.
……..I’m back. Just after I typed that, my mate came in to tell me he needed me to hold something for him while he fastened it. Only a few seconds later, the offspring came in to ask me to help move a shelf as she is re-organizing her room.
Is there anything I can add that expresses the whole cosmic joke better than that?
The old one is beginning to recover. The young one is about to set out on her own. I am about to enter a different phase of my life.
The next week offers time to reflect upon all of this.
That’s all I have to say.