Last night I watched the sunset from my new front porch while enjoying a Fuente and a Stolie with a twist, and something else I haven't experienced in quite some time, the peace and solitude of living alone.
I can't seem to stay married. It isn't that I don't want to be. I've tried, several times. It's just that sooner or later I'm in constant hot water for the things I don't do, or didn't do. A forgotten anniversary, a missed compliment, spending too much time to myself and my interests. It never fails. I am simply unable or unwilling to devote the time and attention necessary to keep a woman happy, at least not the one's I've married.
So, here on the cusp of my 7th decade on this earth I find myself in a new home, with a new job, and single.
I spent the entire Labor Day weekend arranging and decorating my new digs, working on a new song, and messing with Photoshop. Only left the house to take a walk around the neighborhood and go to the grocery and hardware stores. Loving it.
Let the adventure begin!
(Although it's beginning with more of a whimper than a bang as from my study this morning I can see that my car has a flat tire. Let the adventure begin right after I take care of this!)