Thank God It's Friday. Oh I know it's Monday where you are, but here in the land of the clockless, calendar-less semi-retired, it's a glorious Friday. And I have to thank God for that.
Well, that is if there were an actual God who reigns over us like an overbearing, needy old man. A cranky monster who needs constant worship, unending deference and a slew of "prayer warriors" to fulfill a simple wish like a Super Bowl victory for the NY Jets or a bowl of gruel for a starving kid on any one of the 7 continents.
Sorry.
God and I are not exactly on speaking terms. We might be in a few years when we come to meet. But for now I'm going to speak my mind and enjoy my newfound liberty from other illusory constructs, like Time and Space.
As many people my age - although in no possible way do I see myself as a 65 year old man, I'm still 44 at heart - will tell you, "I wake up every morning and never know what day it is."
It's disorienting. In a pleasing way that I'm growing into. It's hard to shake the wake up and work regimen that had been beaten (sometimes literally) into me by a father who seemed to have invented the American Work Ethic.
It wasn't enough to be a 14 year old boy lugging 50 lbs. of the The Journal News for a paper route. When my father found out there was another route available in the next neighborhood, he convinced me to expand my territory, like a reluctant young Vanderbilt, and expand my character-building by working TWO paper routes.
The longest stretch of down time I've ever enjoyed came in 2021, when Deb passed. And there was nothing enjoyable at that. Three cloudy weeks that for the life of me I cannot remember.
Thankfully I was able to rejoin my PayPal colleagues and get back to the business of creating crappy newsletters and other FFDKK™, Frivolous Fuckwadian Digital Knick Knacks.
Of course, it's not all hammocks and daytime Manhattans for me. I still do occasional work.
Like when my friend Jason calls me and says he needs an entire ad campaign written in a day, But for the most part my day is about exercising, errand running and excessive enjoyment that I'm not one of 761 applicants for a Creative Director position at the Cheesecake Factory.
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