2014 © Anne Rose
I just woke up. That could be a good thing—except a zillion racing thoughts woke up with me. They need to find another bed.
Mark Twain said he had many troubles in his life and most of them never happened. It seems like most of mine did.
In the last four years I’ve seen my credit rating take such a plunge that a leap off the Burj Khalifa in Dubai would feel like a fall from the curb. I’ve had the banks, tax man, water works, electric company, tenants, city health department, litter patrol, lead agency, rain, wind, common thieves, copper thieves, con artists, insurance companies, family, dogs and even the squirrels in my yard make Job’s trials look like a case of coffee jitters. My mother-in-law said to think about my troubles as if I have only ten more years of this. I was thinking more like ten minutes.
My husband bought two lotto tickets today. My only thought: Do you think 130 million will be enough?
Is your life a walk on the beach—during a hurricane? Then you get what I’m talking about.