Fifty seems like it would be a momentous year, gold-dipped and gleaming. A milestone, an accomplishment. And it was a a good year, but it was also a hard year. Adjustments at home, adjustments at work. The begrudging acceptance of my permanent work-from-home life, much smaller and simpler than the one I used to have. The aches and pains and health scares for me and for others that come standard with living to this age and beyond. Ambitious goals that were a little too ambitious. Impostor ...
“I am I because my little dog knows me.” – G. Stein
