Nervous Times

The economy is a mess. I realize this is not news to you but it's scary. All of us are feeling the pinch in different ways.

The election is less than a month away. I try to be an independent thinker and study the candidates and the issues that I care about. I'm still nervous about both teams.

The husband is having surgery tomorrow. I am not worried about the actual surgery; I'm worried that he will be trapped with me for at least three days. We are used to coffee and crosswords in the morning and evenings together. Even when we go on vacation, he plays golf and I go to the beach.

Some years are better than others. We lost the Belle in January and the Captain in March.

I don't need to get on a treadmill; I'm pacing enough to get my workout done.

The Sunday Night Freak Out

Weekends allow us to relax. For the husband, that means golf and cards. For me, I might go to the pool or curl up with a book.

Like all good things, the weekend ends. Then the brain neurons kick in and it's Sunday night. You're evaluating the week. You're facing reality again. You're making to-do lists. You're pacing.

Even retired people struggle with this. It's ingrained over decades and now there is nothing to be freaking about. It doesn't matter. The habit is there.

I have a Sunday night ritual. It involves a swim in my tub, a glass of wine and music. I have nothing to fear on Monday morning but I still do it.