Ch ch ch changes

 I have a theory, which I may have mentioned before.  That all families  or individuals have a "Year."  That is a period of time, usually a year, when bad shit happens to them or those closest on an almost continuing and overwhelming basis.  It is not that bad things don't happen at other times, but there are times when they happen continuously, regardless of what is going on in the greater world.  I think this is my year and I still have five months to go.  I suppose I should look on the bright side, I'm no longer doing illegal drugs or drinking so I stand a less likely chance of being arrested for those things, although knowing the competency of the police, perhaps I should worry even more. And the tax man is still nipping at my heals so there is that to worry about.

What has been happening is that things are happening so fast and hard that I am finding it very hard to do much more then the bare minimum at work or for that matter outside of work.  We are eating out a lot more because neither of us has the energy to cook, or the patience for that matter.  So a lot of cheap greasy Mexican food which I like, but I somehow feel is not the best thing for a gentleman of my advanced age.

Every time I turn around I'm unable to make, what I think are necessary changes or just things I want to do.  Luckily, I appear to be good at my job and I'm able to function, in court, which I find a lot of fun although stressful.   The preparation time is what is being cut and one must normally prepare after all.  Can't wing 'em all.  Luckily I'm helped by clients who will often just drift away and not participate in the preparation for their case.  I say luckily because that does take a load off my shoulders, if they do not help then I often can't do it by myself, so that does free up time.

Looking back at this it looks like I'm whining, but that really isn't it.  I figure shit as they say happens and unless you are a 1%er you've gotta ride with it, that doesn't mean you can't bitch about it.

UPDATE:  I'm told that the above kind of made a reader sad because it seemed to be well kind of depressing.  I had intended it to be more or less humorous or perhaps wry or maybe rye if I could have found the liquor.   I like to think of myself as the kind of :A little song a little dance a little seltzer down your pants kind of guy.  Damn it is hard being funny.