The 32nd 30th

There’s a fine line (there are many fine lines, including those in my favourite shirt) between objectively and wisely questioning what you think and do, and starting to wonder if it’s all wrong: what if I’ve taken the wrong turn here; made a poor choice there; spent my time badly; responded inadequately; pegged my life to a flawed set of premises — especially when every problem out there looks so big and insoluble while what’s in front of me is comparatively tiny and manageable. We’re strange creatures. If it ain’t broke, some of us look for cracks anyway.

It’s time to feed the dog. Pack up the house. Post this. Go and eat dinner with the man I’ve eaten dinner with most nights for 32 years.


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