Bounced between Wichita Lineman to some Phantom Of The Opera and moved on to a series of other songs while trying to figure out if I got 4 ten minute naps after work or 2 twenty minute ones.
Don’t think I slept more than two hours last night and was impressed that I didn’t fall asleep during the all day meeting and felt good about the 40 minute presentation I gave.
Almost went to bed at 8:30 just because but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Now I am pretty damn close to being wide awake which makes sense because it is 10:30 and my inner night owl is stirring.
Went digging around looking for songs from childhood and came across Charlie Rich singing The Most Beautiful Girl.
Reminded me of restaurants with sawdust covered floors, family vacations driving up the coast to Santa Barbara or San Francisco and assorted other memories of life in the early to mid seventies.
Fast forward to the present and conversations in which I corrected others by saying I was already gone and thoughts about the guy who didn’t make 79.
The Impatient Patient Man
There have been some newer visitors coming round here that have reminded me of a need to pay some additional attention to the content because some people read between the lines.
That is something I appreciate and understand except they take the obvious and see it as being a symbol and the complex as something simple.
Makes me laugh a little bit because there are very few who truly recognize the layers of the tapestry and identify them.
Sometimes saying you are waiting for June to come around is nothing more than acknowledging summer is your favorite time of year.
Don’t have to be a prophet to guarantee June will come around again because time will pass and May 2023 will be followed by June.
Don’t have to be a scientist to say we’ll be inside June again within 371,584 minutes 42 seconds of this very moment.
Which all leads to my being an impatient patient man.
I can feel the weather slowly beginning to turn and while I am not bothered by temperatures moving from the 100s into the eighties and nineties I don’t look forward to ice.
Given my druthers I am perfectly happy to visit the cold for a couple of days here and there and nothing more.
But since the old man never revealed a secret treasure nor bequeathed an empire to run there are some things I put up with.
Autumn’s my favorite season, followed by winter; I’m probably the only person in the world who feels that way. Autumn means no more bugs for a long time; winter means not only snow, but fewer possibilities of someone I don’t know coming to the house, ringing the bell and bothering me, whether they know me or not. I know, that’s a shame, but I like being told ahead of time that someone wants to come… and if I don’t answer the phone and you’re not my power of attorney, don’t bother me. lol
I have heard from a few others who prefer autumn over other seasons. I always imagine they have some twisted reason for it. 😉
No bugs isn’t a horrible thing either, kind of nice for certain.
I like visiting snow, but happy not to live in it.