The End of a Thing

By Warner Bros. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Technically, I ought to just skip today’s session and buy the fellas a round this weekend, in thanks for their support. Or maybe I could play the birthday card and wiggle out of that obligation or trade free birthday beers for free blogging beers. Technically, I could fudge on my bet. Technically, I could call 30 days good, since this is 31.

But, on the other hand, I could really prove something to myself if I could somehow come up with 400 words in 10 minutes, before I have to get ready for work. If I could do that I could look back on the whole experiment as a success, because it taught me how to free flow, to meet my obligations, and to piece together an article in a hurry, when I have to. I mean, sure, it’ll be short on research and might even come across looking rushed or unplanned, but, sometimes, we have to make compromises. Sometimes we just have to wing it. That’s life.

Speaking of life, you probably know by now that my life ticked another notch forward yesterday, when I observed my 49th birthday. This ol’ planet did another revolution around that there sun, and gravity pulled me a little further down in various parts of my body. I’m not complaining, I like moving forward in life. I feel young, most of the time.

I don’t feel young today. My plan to pace myself on my birthday got blown apart by a noon call from a friend for a lunchtime beer. That led to all sorts of mayhem, as lunchtime beers often do, and the celebration began. I celebrated. Far harder than I expected but, again, it was my birthday. I do have great friends. And a spectacular wife. And one hell of a strong liver.

But that’s it. I know it’s Friday, but there is no way the party will continue. I’m done. Forget the fact that the weekend has not even begun, or that it’s kind of a long weekend with the 4th of July on the other side. Forget all that. I’m taking a break. Even the most powerful liver needs a weekend off.

Soon.

Go ahead and strike that last paragraph from existence. There’s not an ounce of truth in it. The party has just begun. It’s still my birthday until it’s not. I might take a day, but I won’t take a weekend. Come on, man. This is Tom we’re talking about. Who are we kidding?

But however the rest of this weekend goes, I know I’ll spend it with love. I’m lucky enough to have a big group of great friends, and an amazing family. I just, somehow, drew the right card in life, in that respect.

On that note, I made it. Some 500 words in about 10 minutes.

Thank you again for your patience this month. I’ve enjoyed bringing you daily Tom, more than even I thought I would. I’m amazed how many stuck with me; the daily clicks actually went up as the month went by. But that’s enough of that for a bit. Tom Being Tom will return to its regularly irregular schedule, and I’ll go back to bringing you my thoughts, on stuff, about every week or so.

I’m gonna miss this. But this is not the end, only the beginning. We have a lot left to talk about.

Another revolution has just begun.

Author: Tom Being Tom

Tom writes a blog. When he’s not doing that he’s usually hanging out with Mrs C, his wife of 20 years. Together, they have two beautiful, golden boys. Literally. The retriever kind. Tom recently started a novel and is a member of one of the largest social groups known to man.

His worldview was formed by the strange intermingling of comic book superheroes, socioeconomic politics, the Air Coryell offense, and an atheistic spiritual awakening.

He intends to save the world next Thursday.

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