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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

It started back in April. The first phase of Lockdown had just been implemented urging people to stay at home, work from home if possible, and stay isolated.

I had already been working from home, out in the country, in isolation for years. So no big deal. Except that I thought, “Hey… everybody else’s lives have been affected, what about me?” So, because April was my Birthday Month, I decided to take the time off. Kick back. Do nothing.

I loved it.

“I may never work again!” I declared.

Of course that wasn’t realistic so over the next few months I cranked out a few commissions.

Long hours at the drawing board led to aching muscles, a sore back and an upset ulcer. But that was nothing new. I’d suffered these side-effects for decades. But my mind hearkened back to the Awesome April of Idleness and how much better I had felt mentally and physically.

It was also tough to stay motivated when it seemed that all of western civilization was circling the drain.

Then came October, Shelley’s Birthday Month, and I reprised the halcyon days of spring: doing NOTHING.

It. Was. AWESOME! I really may never work again.

Then I thought, “No, seriously… I should really get back to work.”

Then I thought, “Well… first let’s see how the U.S. election turns out. No point in doing a bunch of work only to have all of North America fall into anarchy.”

Still waiting.

‘Edge of Anarchy’ seems to be the New Normal.

I guess I’ll get back to work now.