I know. It’s been a week or so since I last popped in. This blog is like an unfurnished, rental apartment: I stop by every so often to see if the heat is on and if the toilets flush properly while waiting for new tenants. Only there aren’t any new tenants. Just me. And I’m sucking at keeping up with this blog’s curb appeal. Frankly I still have no energy for any life detail other than work. (the tree is still up) I remain exhausted and have been muttering hallelujah ever since the Christmas season shimmied off into the crushed, glitter foil tiaras of new year’s trash heaps.

This week marks my 6-month dateline at the ‘new’ job. I remain readily fearful and easily sidetracked by multi-tasking; I feel very much like those archaic plate jugglers that use to appear on The Ed Sullivan Show. Now if I could only learn to fart ‘Flight Of The Bumblebee’ I’d have an act for the road. But I digress.

In the last month I’ve forecast and developed a half-million advertising budget — from radio and print to online impressions, redesigned the company’s shopping bag to a chic, low-luxe eurotote that fashionistas will want to carry lunch bits and Tory Burch ballet flats to & from work, designed and presented an emerging advertising brand campaign, implemented a new tagline, coordinated pending photographer/talents, updated some web imagery and — ongoing, posted daily content and graphic elements to the company’s social media presence. And you wonder where I’ve been? I have no energy left for anything but comfort food and bed.

This past weekend was spent — minus an evening’s dinner out, in bed. It still takes the weekend for me to recharge. I don’t know how or why I’m fatigued but it’s an emerging reality that sorta concerns me. Is this what ‘getting old’ feels like? Does it become a matter of not wanting to engage because one is physically not able or is it BECAUSE one simply doesn’t have the energy to back up the “can do” spirit of earlier decades that one turns to a lump on the sofa? This puzzles me; I don’t mind growing old but acting old is an entirely other matter.

The new year has brought a bit of sad news. A friend lost a friend, suddenly; he talked to him one day — gone the next. If you think you are immune to life’s cruel twists and turns of fate think again. Go back to a year ago: think of those folks gathered to hear Representative Gifford speak and recall how so many lost their lives in a jiffy flash. Time is far too precious to waste on the petty, the ignorant and the untrue. Today’s lesson? Go make beauty in your world; share it. It’s really later than any of us think. Dance in your underwear once in a while; maybe go balls out and skip the underwear.

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