making time

That's twice so far that I've done it, scribbled out a Christmas card and included best wishes for 2088. It just flows right off my pen, though, to be honest, I'm not sure my handwriting would be much worse were I to make it to that year and the anniversary of my birth number one hundred nineteen. Perhaps no one will notice, or rather, decipher, that I've skipped eighty years ahead.

For someone determined to make the last week of December last indefinitely--there's no school now, understand--my subconscious seems eager to see this year go. I've put '08 (but no eighty) on the few checks that I write, given my next birthday, five months out, as my age, and now I'm spotting us all nearly a century. Talk about livin' in the future! Good grief.

2007 has been a year like none other, but I have no urgent need to be done with it. Maybe I just want to see what comes next. Or maybe I'm just trying to increase the odds that these cards and the rest of my preparations are complete before the designated holiday. Two days seems iffy for all that's not done around here, but a few months? or a few decades? I could do that.