So, most days I wake up with something we've named the gobloots. It's a generalized feeling of dread mixed with terror and helplessness. The name comes from a fictional ailment Ricky Ricardo once told Lucy she had. Usually it goes away in less than an hour.
You'll recall my mention of how a couple of weeks after I left the credit union, Bank of America called and offered me the Marketing Directorship of Albuquerque. I declined saying I'd just leased an art gallery space. Over the next four years I averaged $50,000.00 in sales, a fifth of what I felt was necessary to make the gallery viable. But art always came through for me even though the money never did.
I turned 68 this morning around 6:00 a.m.
I think my chances have come and gone. But its been a great ride!
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