|
|
In honor of all those in party attendance; clearly I am not. In fact, sadly on this Saturday night I am entering my time for the month and drinking beer. Must factor in treats when I can. As if I didn't have enough trouble writing for anyone other than The Man (The Man by the way gets an average of five to six pages per day; apparently my writing impulses are currently owned by over-grown smart southern frat boys) my firm has surf blocked happy robot. So only non office computer time for me.
But all is not whiny blather. . . this week brings vacation. Miami, south beach, art deco hotel. The beach, dog races, mojitos, late afternoon sunburt kisses. I can't wait, but I will.
I talked to friend tonight who I used to teach with (before I sold my soul to the above mentioned Man). She spoke about her life's goal of living and teaching in one community so that one day she teaches some of her first students' children.
I keeping hop-scotching life stones. She is standing solidly on a timeless kind of rock.
|
|
