Fumble

2007 took three days to erase the optimism of New Years Day. The Wyoming wind is rumbling the windows. I gave up coffee because my esophagus felt tight. The office superintendents' keys were stolen by his hoodlum grandson (maybe, but likely) and now we have to change the locks. My hair stylist of five years left town. The Fighting Irish? - good God! - why do we even want to play in a bowl game. I unwisely discussed a stupid internet survey about whether married people would do it again.

Gonna turn this baby back around. Drinking coffee again, cutting out soda pop. Out with the Christmas Tree. Might try Ed's Clip Shop.