It looks as if my life expectancy, given my lifestyle and general health, is about 89.

I assume I will need to work most of those years — so that may extend things a bit … or shorten them.

But I will die some time in the next 30-45 years give or take.

That is fine. We will all die. "Fine" comes from the same root at "finite" and "finish."

Life is only fine, as is death, if there is an inevitable conclusion to wrap things up here and move on to what is next.

It is 1:18 in the morning and I really want to get up in 2-3 hours because there is so little time to get everything done … tomorrow … and the rest of my life.

And I wasted so much of it today.

I cannot do that tomorrow … er … today. I cannot. I will not.

The funny thing is that, in order to insure a good start on "tomorrow" (for lack of a better word), I have to close out "today," which is now "yesterday."

I must create a boundary between the two, a buffer that is sleep. Every finish is a refining for a fine new day to come.

I did "waste" much of today and I have learned a few things in the process. I cannot tell you what it is at the moment, but it is there. In the meantime, I am going to call it wuits. I cannpot improve on Thursday, but I can surely embrace Friday.

Hopefully, there is some food for thought here.