Entry 4246

Journal Entry 4246

365 x 81 = 29565

Do you see what I'm getting at? 

+ 20 more days to cover leap years.

That's it. You guessed it.

That's all I got. 

29585 days. Total.

If I'm lucky.

It's a big if, this 81, I'm asking a lot.

 

I'm shooting for 81. I don't know why.

I lie. I sort of do but no need to go there now.

And how likely it would be to kick the bucket on my exact eighty-first birthday. 

Probably not very.

If I was curious and I did the math then I'd find out I have 4246 days left to use up as I wish.

 

This means I've used up 25340 or so days up until today.

I am not the best at math.

Today is February 16, 2024.

Sigh, time has gone by so fast.

Jeez, what the hell did I do with all those days?

 

I don't really care for quotes. Many are merely cute eye rollers. Now and then, though, one has appeal. This one stuck.

"Going on holiday offers us a chance to be unhappy somewhere else with better weather."

I laughed and groaned at the same time. It does not sum up my life I'll let you know. Thankfully. But it sort of does. I can relate.

 

We take ourselves with us wherever we go.

So, wherever you go, there you are.

 

In this moment I am, of course, typing. The forecast called for a cloudy day. They were wrong. The sun is in and out of the clouds and when the sun it out the living room is bright and cheerful. It snowed last night, about four inches and through our great picture window I can see it cling to the tree branches. The trees in the forest across the way look skeletal. It is a powdery snow, like feathers. The temperature is a brisk minus four and there is no wind. I am chewing a piece of gum. The flavour is long gone. My ass feels bony on the wooden stool. I am wearing yellow socks, the kind that are called ankle socks. My sweatpants are camouflage blue and my shirt-coat is red. Three primary colours. The dog whose name is Coconut is curled at my feet. She is snoring and sleeping on her back like Snoopy. Paws in the air. Catherine is in the kitchen about to make banana bread. She is kind and generous, making the bread for the Iah's. I plan to make an apple pie shortly. It will be for us. We had a good apple harvest this year for the first time since we have been here.

Am I happy in this moment? No, probably not. I wouldn't put it quite like that. But nor am I miserable or sad or cranky or envious of all my friends leading extraordinary lives on Facebook, nor am I anxious. I am content. I am here, now. This is my choice.

 

It is nothing special. I am nothing special. I keep reminding myself of this.

 

4245 to go.