The story alluded to in the earlier post isn't written. It may be written at some point, but can't be written now.
There was a beginning, or rather, the workings of a beginning but it hasn't gone much further. Yet.
And perhaps it won't. Like I said before, I can't think. I'm not drinking today, but still, I can't think. That is to say that I'm having trouble thinking beyond the here and now. And what is here and now is work. jobs. sales. finances. and yes, eating. drinking. and too, having the where-with-all to be some kind of merry. Not to mention the where-with-all to maintain hearth and home.
For the moment, a personal impending crisis been averted. I can't go further than that because it feels . . .well, I'm still somewhat . . . wow. Still, as distressing as the prospective news was, it wasn't devastating. It could have been worse. And it may be at some point, but for now, I'm breathing a tad bit easier today than I was the other.
In other news, I haven't had any potato chips in since just before I turned fifty. Oh sure, that may not big news to you, but to me? It's gi-norm-us.
*click the pic h/t