5 Comments

Dead week is literally the only week I put no pressure on myself. I read my Christmas present books, clean out my office, sleep in a bit, count my blessings and balance that with my deep regrets on things as much as 40 years ago that I could have done differently. All in all, a wash, so when it hits January 2 I decide on my resolution -- which is always a reacheable one. Like I'm going to get new underwear or wash my car at least once in the New Year. And then, full speed ahead.

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Consider "dead week" a rehearsal for retirement. Multiply it by 51 (adjusted for visiting grandkids, playing cards with the other codgers, and medical visits) and you have a reasonable approximation.

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I've been having a little bit of a dead year, Here's to a happy, healthy and gainful 2024!

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One advantage, and there are few, of being old is best stated by Maggie Smith's character on Dowton Abbey when she was asked about her plans for the weekend, "What's a weekend?" To me, the same applies to dead week.

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Another home run, and the second post in a row that wasn’t one of your classic rants. While they are often delightfully on target and very funny, this one, like last week’s, supplies not only some good laughs and numerous smiles, but also a warm glow of recognition and appreciation for a week I haven’t given its fair due. Plus a biology/evolution shoutout! All in all a delicious and nutritious meal for the brain!

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