I was going to go to bed long ago. Then I started listening to a song I haven't heard in awhile. I know I can learn to play it on the piano, but the house doesn't stir enough to make playing music on the apparatus fair game. Today, or this week, or some hour around now marks 3 years of my beloved dog Lucky's death. I shared 17 years of my life with her and to this day I still open the door to my mother's home slowly, waiting for her to wag her little self around it's edge and paw my legs, squirming so. She doesn't.

Historically, I haven't approached change as well as I probably could. It probably started somewhere between ages 5 and 6, when going to school incurred some minor consequences like having to learn to tie my shoes by myself. School could certainly not be worth learning such things that only seemed to waste my time. I had playing to do, and the 80s welcomed velcro...an efficiency that seemed to fit well with my style. How could I waste time tying laces?