Nightmares
I awoke this morning as the result of a terrible nightmare. In my dream, I was at work in my former day job again! Let me tell you, folks, that right there ain't funny.
Yesterday began with an early morning telephone call from a guy at Johns Hopkins University about a chapter in a book that I had committed to write before retirement. As an act of true charity, I agreed to finish it. It's a piece on strain gage technology and I suspect that is a part of the cause of my dream.
The other part of the cause for the nightmare might be that the CFO and I signed the papers to sell the flatlands house last evening. The house is no longer ours. Oh, we still technically own it but the realtor now runs it. It's as if you are living in a storefront window. Keep it clear. Keep it clutter free. Be ready to leave for an undefined period of time on a moment's notice in order that it can be viewed by total strangers. While you might be mentally gone when the papers are signed, you are still physically there until the money is in the bank.
And as a final cause of my discomfort, I worked my fingers to the bone yesterday getting things ready for the realtor to photograph. And, it was work under a deadline. Retired people are not suppose to have deadlines, are we?
Oh, well. I've got another day of "this and that" small stuff found by the realtor to do and then it's on to the writing with yet another deadline.
What a nightmare!
Yesterday began with an early morning telephone call from a guy at Johns Hopkins University about a chapter in a book that I had committed to write before retirement. As an act of true charity, I agreed to finish it. It's a piece on strain gage technology and I suspect that is a part of the cause of my dream.
The other part of the cause for the nightmare might be that the CFO and I signed the papers to sell the flatlands house last evening. The house is no longer ours. Oh, we still technically own it but the realtor now runs it. It's as if you are living in a storefront window. Keep it clear. Keep it clutter free. Be ready to leave for an undefined period of time on a moment's notice in order that it can be viewed by total strangers. While you might be mentally gone when the papers are signed, you are still physically there until the money is in the bank.
And as a final cause of my discomfort, I worked my fingers to the bone yesterday getting things ready for the realtor to photograph. And, it was work under a deadline. Retired people are not suppose to have deadlines, are we?
Oh, well. I've got another day of "this and that" small stuff found by the realtor to do and then it's on to the writing with yet another deadline.
What a nightmare!
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