Isn’t it funny how the older we get, the less important it is to receive presents on your birthday – at least the material kind? I just turned onto Route 66 this morning (if you get my drift) and received a humdinger of a gift in the form of advice for living the next 365 days. Usually I balk at advice, preferring to dish it out ad nauseam. But this resonated in a big way.
My grandmother used to call every one of her 13 grandchildren’s names before she could finally get down to mine. We called it “hardening of the arteries” whenever she told us the same stories over and over.
All together now. Get off that sofa and park the Bon Bons. Just walking in place during the upcoming commercial break could be a ground breaking launch for a full fledged exercise program. (At least that’s what my friend, the Pilates instructor, tells me.)
Well, strike me pretty and call me Sophia Loren! A new book, destined to become a best seller, claims that procrastination may be a good thing!
That sound you hear is me clicking my heels as I dump my tax forms in the waste can where I keep all the important stuff. It’s my personal filing system and I typically deal with it when the can gets full.
I love to talk and especially love to hear myself talk – much to the chagrin of those with whom I share the planet. So I’m understandably puzzled by the increase in texting and tweeting which involve no use of the vocal chords whatsoever.