Dear Diary

Dear Diary, Dear Diary,
Dear Abby, Dear Ann,
Please help me think through things
As fast as you can.
Life is not going according to plan.
Dear Diary, Dear Diary,
Dear Abby, Dear Ann.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these. Or years, even. Of course, there have been signs, what with changes coming faster -- and more furiously -- the older I get.

Loss has me reeling emotionally. As well as the hindsight that slaps hard with the realization that I probably should have followed the rules about working for retirement. Now I'll be working instead of retiring.

Time to overcome the stress and paralysis and blog on.

One of my best friends in the world died of cancer at age 54. The last of our most recent four dogs just died. My marriage is dying. And I'm facing middle age alone, sad, and lonely. Who'd-a thunk?

At least I have a job. Hahahaahhahahahaha

This, too, shall pass. But it feels pretty bad right now. Still I know things will change, and I can't wait to see what happens next. I've got one arm up for protection.