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The Perfect Day Is . . .

clock-439592_960_7204 hrs reading.

4 hrs writing.

4 hrs rocking.

6 hrs miscellaneous activities with self/family/friends.

6 hrs sleeping.

Daily I live with the disturbing truth that I somehow failed to maneuver myself into a career that paid me a modest living’s worth to either read, write or rock. Hell, all three in the same day would be exquisite.

But no.

Instead I as a middle-aged man somehow manage to function with the anxiety of having not made the right choices in that regard.

FUN FACT: You can damn near spell the word underachiever with letters from my three names. You’d only be short the h and the i. Obviously only someone with issues would even think that way, right?