Woke up to a Violent Femmes song looping through my head. Then I check a text message that a friend sent at 12:47 this morning.
It was a fucking meme with a picture of Bryan Adams telling me that I’m closer to the Summer of 2069 than I am to the Summer of 1969.
Now I have that song looping through my brain.
Maybe it’s a good thing that I have a double earworm going at 3:15 in the morning?
I’m in no mood to tackling the Albert Camus quote down on the Chalkboard.
…. Don’t regret the past and don’t worry about the future.
I have fifteen days left on the 2025 edition of “The Sixty Day Celebration of Cecilia.”
My first cocktail in sixty days will be a gin martini.
My first bite of meat will be a breaded steak sandwich from Ricobene's.
My first dessert will be a chocolate eclair from Oak Park Bakery.
My first hot dog will be at Sox Park.
My first pizza will be from Rosangela's or Phil’s.
Fifteen more days… those last fifteen days were a shit show in 2016. My mom’s last fortnight on earth. I’ll have two stories to get off my chest from that time period. The “Kitchen Cabinet” story and the “Twenty Minute Detour” story.
Go tackle the week and enjoy the arrival of spring. We had thunder and lightning over the weekend. That means nature will explode in the next few days.
Spring is springing…
