so, don't cry for me shaggytina, because I'm as cool as the other side of the pillow, but, for the last 45 days, instead of working I could have been fingering my own asshole and I would have accomplished about the same (except for the loss of self-respect that would have occurred had I fingered my own asshole, NTTAWWT).
But, I took, plenty of beach days and drank plenty of Prosecco. So, life is good, right? I had a milestone birthday today, and I'm self-reflecting a bit, and I've come to the conclusion that although I think of my self as a guy that scratches and claws all day, I'm really a sort-of-semi-retired wanker that takes any deal that splashes over my transom, but I'm not really throwing as much bait as I could be throwing.
Call it an existential crisis. Do I say "put the pedal to the medal" and bust my balls and see how much money I can make in the next 5-10 years before I call it quits, or do I just say "serenity now", pluck the low-hanging fruit, and spend the rest of my days fucking my woman, traveling, and fucking my woman in new and interesting places (geographically...none of her places are "new" but, I still find them interesting).