I slept for twelve hours last night fighting a cold I hope doesn’t turn into something else.
The big comforter kept me warm, and except for doing two loads of laundry around 1 a.m., I slept in four two to three hour parcels.
I feel achy, this morning, but the coughing reduced significantly. I’m easing into a day of writing, yard work and cookery. There is no other choice than to get to work.
The Social Security Administration sent us an annual statement last month. At the current benefits level, we should be fine if we can make it to full retirement age of 68. The current authorization is expected to fund it until 2041, in which year I will turn 90. After that, who knows if the Congress will address the program in a positive way. There’s a lot of living to do before then.
An acquaintance from working in the warehouse stopped at the orchard yesterday. He left as well, taking a part time job at a different warehouse store for $16 per hour. He said others have left. I’ll check the job out, and if accepted, and it fits my writing schedule, I may take it. All of those are unknowns — part of this week’s discovery. It was good to see him again.
Today seems like it will be alright. Not perfect — what day ever is — but serviceable. Perhaps a portal to potential unrealized in a turbulent world.