My dog was lost for several hours this morning. Now found, thanks to a kind stranger four blocks away, and a rabies tag.
Last night I discovered, quite unexpectedly, and in the course of what can only be described as casual conversation, that my father is the youngest of four, not three. His brother, my uncle, was born, and died, in 1937. Five years later, my father was given his brother’s name, with the first and middle names reversed.
I have three deadlines today, and despite working all weekend, I will not be making any of them.
All that has been, can never be again.
All that was scheduled for today, can fucking well wait until tomorrow.
