Last night, the well went out. The circuit breaker reset on the well; but, it tripped two more times yesterday and one time this morning. I'm waiting on the well repair man.
You can get philosophical, high brow and discuss art. If the water is not running, you can come down to Earth fairly quick.
I one of those people who questioned my life choices the past few years. I've got a lot of living to do. Being in my fifties, I recognize that life is finite and you certainly can't skip off and redo career choices. My big regret is not taking writing more seriously.
Lately, I find I made a good choice. I have friends in their fifties like me who cannot support themselves. With the economy and their age, they really are having a hard time. I've never known all these starving artists and it is not fun.
Not being able to help and/or not wanting to be taken advantage of is depressing. I have worked many less than dignified jobs to keep myself afloat. I expect others to do the same. The only problem is that even those jobs have to be appreciated. I am reluctant to suggest them because I know that the person may have been trying and could not get a job.
There is a balance. Juggling two jobs most of my life, living a little leaner and playing a little more would have been a better investments of my time. I was the beaver who worked and didn't play like the squirrel. Hindsight is definitely twenty twenty. You have the benefit of knowing the ups and downs of the economy.
Dolly Parton said she wouldn't give a million for the lessons learned from her poverty stricken childhood and would gladly not have to pay a million to relive it. Like Parton, there are lessons I learned that will help me write. I have no desire to stalk a sexy vampire. There is plenty of fodder here and now for me.
The well repair man has left. Lightning struck the control box. $213. Good thing I was a beaver.
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