02/15/2013

Yesterday from 8am until midnight, all I did was work or wait for someone else to finish something so I could do my work, with breaks for company and a 20-minute dog walk.  I am certain the recipients of my work are still going to complain, but I will not let that affect my weekend.

I am getting to an age where being healthy matters.  This past year, I’ve seen three people who are less than a decade older than me who have been healthy but have died from random things you’d expect to hear a younger person recover from:  pneumonia, heart attack, complications of a heart attack, etc.

Working probably my 50th hour this week, I am only slightly torqued when I hear someone whining about how not-hard liberals work.  Liberals are supposed to spend wildly and we’re supposed to be not very hard workers.  I easily and regularly work 50 hours a week.  I also am cheap enough for my friend to say "and you make HOW much?" when I told him I eat rice with milk, cinnamon and sugar every day for breakfast.  Oh, and I like and know how to cook venison!

I have a funny superstition about death.  I always suspect that when someone dies, that they are able to know others’ thoughts, and they’re made aware of all the mysteries and secrets of the world.