I'm pretty much used to typing 2018. I don't think I've more than once at first thought of a 7.
But it doesn't feel like 2018.
2020 used to seem so far away and it still seems far away.
It's like my age. Sure I'm 50; but only if I think about it.
When somebody says that somebody's age 50- I don't think they're my age. They're some middle age person.
I'm not middle age.
Job interview Wednesday.
Still thinking about Paint Your Wagon- the play itself; not our production. How loosely the writers used words that meant something different in 1857- hell, damn...
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