Today on the cusp of finishing the last of a run of work. Looking forward to a few weeks of looseness. I can't speak a word to anyone I know.

Why? Some perverse reflect sends them into spinning ideas or getting excited that I might want to join them and "do something." No, no! Doing less is what I seek.

While doing less I'll unravel my latest clue to growing Patience. My dreams are dredging up scenes of my embarrassments. Things I did, didn't do, or did poorly. The celebration I didn't invite someone to because they had pissed me off at work. My gym shorts mishap that expose more than my skinny legs and I saw a girl across the gym witness the mishap. The many women who may have been interested in more than idle chitchat who I failed to connect with. Why did I fumble, stutter, and lapsed into silence? Couldn't I trust my ears/eyes/luck? Apparently not.

I have read enough memoir and biography to appreciate the vast club this makes me a member of. Still ... it befuddles me and I sustain traces of regret.

Revu2