Phooey, phooey phear

It's time I confessed. Every time I get close to something good happening, I freak out. It's not really an outward, noticeable kind of freak out. It's the kind I keep to myself, pretty much. I just busy myself with other things. I find other causes, projects, reasons to be elsewhere, doing other things - any other thing. And time slips by, and I worry about time slipping by, but I do nothing to stop the slipping.

One foot in front to the other becomes impossible. And now that I'm officially in my 6th decade, when all this truly started in my first decade, I feel ridiculous. I'm not panicked that I'm out of time. I believe in my heart of hearts that there is enough time, but I know in my case it could better used. Used, not spent. Used to do what I'm here for. Used the way I know I can, and yet...

Five decades of spending time in ways that were so close, but as they say, "no cigar". (Whoever "they" are - right 'T'?) It is time to make like the tortoise, and just keep plugging along. Whether you stay with me or not, I'll be here, plugging along.

Wait. That doesn't really sound joyful enough. And oh, my dear reader(s), there is joy. Such happiness comes from doing it, it makes one wonder why I've put it off! This is me - using time well. Must go write a bit now...tortoise-like... :)