A few days ago (from when I’m writing this — ten days before you’re reading this) I had quite the scare. Something too horrible to even contemplate *almost* happened . . . even now, as I think about it, I break out in a cold sweat and feel almost physically sick.
You see, I had accidentally skipped a day in the numbering and scheduling of these posts. Meaning, I had a post scheduled for December 30th and the next number in the numerical sequence would post on the 1st of January. Yup . . . I almost missed a day. All this effort, all the sweat, and tears, all the sacrifices I made . . . all of it would have been for naught!
Why . . . the whole project could have been ruined and rendered void and worthless (I mean, more worthless than it already is). Luckily, I have what some people call OCD but I call being aware and constantly thinking. You see, I knew that in January, the last digit of the post number should be two more than the last digit of the date. For instance, this post is Number 272 (2) and it goes live on January 10 (0). I knew that because all of last month the separation in last digits was one.
I credit the almost tragedy to the incredible pressure I’m under and because we’re traveling and because we are sick and because — contrary to what the world believes — I occasionally make mistakes.
Luckily, the tragedy was averted with only a few hours to spare before December 31st came into being. I had to rename all of the scheduled posts and I now have a small spreadsheet that tracks dates and the corresponding post numbers.
Anyway, in celebration, I want to link THIS post . . .
And now, the photo:
I cannot lie . . . well, I can, but not in this instance. I like the combination of slight green tints as a backdrop to a black-and-white rendering of the pepper mill.
I seldom get letters addressed to “occupant” . . . but, when I do, I treat them with the same reverence I treat all of the mail I receive. Someone (or some automated machine) went to the trouble of sending me something, the post office went to the trouble of ensuring it gets to me, and I see it as my obligation to complete the process by looking at what exactly was delivered . . . before I shred it.
. . . honest, I would love to know Willy and Ethel and have them as friends. The entertainment value would as incalculable as the value of the wisdom they could impart, not to mention all the life lessons that would be thrown in for free.
If not the last one, surely there’s value in . . . Diluted Purple, Orange, and Magenta Paint Drying.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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