64.

Gloomily, I’ve been thinking how all I’m doing right now is waiting for bad things to happen. Like it’s a setup. Like I’m lalaing in some catastrophe waiting room, if you will, with seats bolted to a slow conveyor belt, sliding toward flames.

That, and paying indefinite dues and scrambling at the lid to stay afloat.

I don’t think I’ll ever have things squared away, or be on the heavy side of the balance.

It’s a mountainside.