Monday, December 10, 2012
Memo to self:
If you'd have been smart, you'd have planned for this and had something to fall back on. You'd have squirreled something away for a rainy day. You'd have made hay while the sun shone, feathered your nest. Gathered your rosebuds, as it were. Instead you robbed Peter to pay Paul, sowed your wild oats, burned the midnight oil at both ends and never thought about the inevitable, that someday it would be time pay the piper. So now you're hanging on by your fingernails with your back against the wall, staring into the abyss.... Jeez, I still need 6 words.