Tomorrow is another day
Today was a mighty fine day. I got a lot accomplished at work, I did a litttle writing, got some exercise, checked out a great record, and had some good meals. Not only that, but I managed to make it out to a pub to celebrate the launch of a good friend’s book, and I think I might even have done some good for a reading series I help to run in the process.
It was also the very last day of my twenties. And you know what? As far as I’m concerned, it was a great one. It wasn’t momentous, but why would it be? It’s not the individual days that matter, after all.
Thirty’s going to be a good year, I think. Ask me tomorrow, though, because I’m done for the day and the decade.
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