Today was hot. I’m still recovering. Hope, and cynicism go hand in hand as we get older and cherish remember’d hurts. I am not so much old, as I fart dust…
One of the things I took away from a re-examination of my parent’s life(s) was that you don’t just *suddenly* get old; it creeps in like a fog on little cat feet. (deliberate simile). I do spend entirely too much time resembling “grumpy old men”, but I do try to break out on occasion. Hope springs eternal?
But it would be nice to have a job. (gig, whatever)...
Anyone?
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