I find myself looking for chapter breaks in my life. I need them so I can get on with the next thing. My wife will read "the next thing" as "I'm leaving my wife," but that isn't even remotely what I mean. And I'm not.
The next thing for me could be an upcoming garage sale or a new weight loss program or finishing whatever seven books I'm in the middle of reading.
I find it difficult to overlap my comings and goings. I need those chapter breaks so I can start whatever project is eating my brain. I need closure on all of those other projects.
I see everything I do (my hobbies, not my marriage,) as if they were on a tray balanced high on the outstretched, bony arm of a snooty waiter. Hopefully the waiter will deliver the tray successfully to its rightful place, but more often than not, the waiter steps in something gross and slippery on the floor and does a face plant. Hilarious, I agree, but it means that I probably spent a lot of time and money on a large tray of broken dishes.
Anyway, I have a lot on my tray at the moment and while I am enjoying the preparation and delivery of these savory entrees, I will enjoy even more the consumption of them. And then the pooping afterward.
Thank you,
Matt Beers
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