Dear Diary,
Last night was fun. Played in the snow with Erin in the dark cold of 8pm. No wind, it was great. Bonus!! Caught a possum. Erin named him, so I felt bad about severely disciplining him over tearing our garbage open regularly, so we released him. Both were happy. The possum even gave me a toothy grin as I opened the door for him.
Today started off great. I love the snow and it managed to stick around through the night. As a bonus God sent some incredible fog overnight and our trees woke up beautifully adorned in ice.
Off to the office with a little dread. I need to talk to some people and write something. Putting it off, putting it off. Thinking about the forecast, more snow starting this afternoon, wooohooo. Whoops, dropped an envelope, better pick that up. Rrrrriiiippppp. Did I just fart? I don't fart! Oh no, my pants. H
ow out of shape am I? Not as bad as I thought maybe, but my pants. I don't look at my butt enough. I need to stop wearing the same pair until they rip. These were so thread bare that I have probably been mooning people for at least a week without realizing it. Now I need to make a list and call all those people too. On to the non-business business I was putting off. Today I wrote something to a load of people and reprimanded them, whether they deserved it or not. I pondered it for weeks, but everything came to a head this week and I had to do something. It was a WWJD moment, except that is ridiculous, because I don't think I can compare any action I take with one Jesus would. How about WWRD? At least R is human. With that in mind I set out to offend and set straight. Thank you R for playing a role and reminding me that Jesus wouldn't have wanted the following line in the text of what I wrote '...for you non-sinning rock throwers, the line starts right behind the leprechaun next to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Please don't throw any rocks until it is your turn.'
This whole day, and the sick feeling I am harboring reminds me of one day when I was like 9 years old (same year I reached 48 in. tall and 50 lbs. I believe). My neighbor, Joe Botian, didn't like that I called him Botian Joe (a character from a stupid local TV show called Captain Jinks that was on after school). So he planned to beat me up once we got off the bus. I knew he couldn't catch me so I tore down the street. To my surprise he was sort of keeping up. So, knowing I couldn't fight him I reached down, grabbed a smallish rock and whipped it at him. Holy crap I hit him in the left nipple and he dropped to the ground in tears. Then I felt horrible, like today. Joe and I remained neighbors for a couple more years, but our friendship was always rocky after that day.
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So anyway, I had to write this to my DL people as a form of therapy. Thanks for at least opening it to look at the photos. If you read this far, double thanks, and may I ask you if you have lost weight recently? Sure looks like it.
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Rick
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PS - now I am going to click SEND and then suffer the same dread I always do after I write something like this and send it to normal people including relatives.
