It’s true – I can’t work on my gardens any more, and can see an end to this enterprise. What I mean is that at some point I’m going to have to stand back and say, whoa! No more!
Work is hell. Work sucks. Work is work.
Walking to work in NYC was hell. Walking through dirty dirty streets after a rain. The garbage used to flow down the gutters. There were moments when I walked behind the NYC Post Office over near 42nd Street, and could have freaked. It was early morning, don’t want to risk being late for the job – and I would be careful not to look too closely at the huge black bags containing just a short period of time’s garbage.
see ya latah!