Dormant

Friday, tomorrow’s Friday at last. No wonder time seems to fly when I wake up for life from one weekend to another. 52 weekends and, oops, a year is gone. A whole year! 365 supposedly unique and precious days and how many of them I will remember? I know, alas for sure, that one day (a day that will come sooner than I expect…or hope) I’ll want to go back in time and kick today’s me for being so presumptuously stupid to assume I have all the time in the world. I don’t. I have only today.