I'm not yet used to ...

... being anonymous again.

With no-one to tell me I'm doing the wrong thing.
Or the right thing.

That I get up too early.
Or work too much.
Or drink too much.
Or too little.

No-one to be horrified that I eat too much.
Or too little.
Or simply unusually large amounts of overcooked broccoli washed down by green and yellow and pink pills (or is that the other way round?).

Dying seems to be a big deal, only one thing I noticed? Is that the days still go one by one. It's permissible to go to sleep - at least for a while - at the end of them, and only one comes at a time.

When it is me dying, then what?
Will my choices still seem as reasonable as they do now?
Will the compromises seem cowardly? Or will the fear of compromise, the need to make the self-sacrificing choices too often, come to light as the cowardly motivator?


Dunno.
Just wondering.

Going away for 3 days tomorrow, to tropical Waiheke, kidding, whilst my ceilings paint themselves.
I hope.