...today. Yet another anniversary. I begin to feel I am jinxed, forebearing closure to everything that I have begun. I suppose I should feel excited about the new job. Sigh, alright.
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Each cell in my body, physically, feels heavy. The mouth is dry from too much Pinot Noir and a mouthful of sweet Reisling. Lead fingers type on the cotton keyboard, and numerous typos and meticulous corrections are in order.
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And what can I say about the little one who does so many things. And about the one who calls me "my dear mad one" but has not proposed yet. And of the one who tells me that he can bear at most one coversation with me every quarter.
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1 comment:
"forebearing closure to everything that I have begun. "
Ah remind me to explain how fortunate you are....
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