The trouble ain’t that there is too many fools, but that the lightning ain’t distributed right.
American novelists, humorist, and critic, Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) was born on this day in 1835 (died 1910).
I’m just going to leave that quote right there other than to say that there’s been a significant shortage of lightning this week.
When I sent my wife a text on Monday and asked what we might have that mixed well with vodka she asked “bad day?”
No, it really wasn’t. Okay some of it was. But most of it was just bizarre.
Isolated incidences of crazy happen all the time, sure. But this was full moon status.
I mean I thought the whole Windows 10 fiasco, the leg that just won’t quite heal (I’m now on my fourth antibiotic), and the dog limping like he’s injured was enough to deal with.
I won’t bore you with the other stuff that happened. It may or may not end up in a book.
Let’s just say I could really use a Silent Night right about now.
Who am I kidding? I’m responsible for a lot of the craziness that I’m whining about.
I’m back to the blog(s).
I’ve got auditions coming up. Let’s just say we’ll start with one and keep going to the others until something sticks.
I’ve got the play in limbo thing.
I’ve got a production meeting coming up for the show I’m directing in the spring.
At the daytime office there’s been a rash of OMG-we-have-to-have-this-meeting-before-the-end-of-the-year-and-end-of the-Administration-emails.
Ima jus’ say about dat: I told you so.
Oh, and there’s a holiday or something this month.
That’s what I want to be focusing on. That’s where I want to be spending my time.
I want to sit by the light of the tree and contemplate, plan, dream.
Or sleep. Sleep is good.
There needs to be nog.
And a good reminder of what the Advent season is really all about.