Today, you have become . . . middle-aged! (also, Michael Kroll and procrastination)
Some people have a harder time with this rite of passage however. One woman at work told me she cried when her optometrist told her she needed bifocals. I generally don't dread these changes in life like some people do, and getting "progressives" (sounds like a regime change I'd like to see) has mostly just been a nuisance since I'm still adjusting to them. The world is a little more . . . bendable with bifocals. If I move my head too quickly, I don't yet know where and how to look so that my surroundings don't elongate and tilt. I mean, it's kind of cool and all, but it also makes me wobble.
Which leads me to believe that this might be considered an alternative to controlled substances. Don't do drugs--get bifocals!
I can see all the kids digging through the dumpsters at TSO's all over Texas, trying to get their bifocal fix . . .
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Tonight, I was listening to a CD from the late 90s--Ether County by Michael Kroll. Kroll was this singer/songwriter I discovered on a sampler CD circa 1995 (?) and I liked his track enough to eventually pick up all three of his albums. He disappeared from the scene about the turn of the century. Googling him does me no good. There seems to be many Michael Krolls out there. I think both labels he recorded for have gone under. I'm left to assume he's left the industry. I'd love to learn otherwise.
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I'm in the home stretch with putting together Able to...
And the home stretch is tedious. Boring. Hard to work on. I've always been the big picture person--details make me a little nuts. And distracted. Okay, I'm procrastinating. If the authors in the book see this, this probably makes them nervous. Well, not to worry, really. I'm still on track, timewise. I even have reason to hope that I'll have the whole kit 'n' kaboodle done by the end of next week.
In the next day or two, I'll start telling you more about individual stories. I'm really falling in love with the stories all over again. I so can't wait to show the world this collection . . .
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