If Seinfeld can get away with it, so can I. This is a post about nothing. Woke up this morning singing “Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning …” One of those perfect days. Windows are open. Birds are in fine tune. And, there’s nothing on my mind.
Nothing’s plenty for me.
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2 comments:
BJ, It sounds like you are pretty content. Some people would feel guilty for feeling the way you do. Not me, though
No, never a guilt trip for feeling content! To quote Glenn Ford in “The Teahouse of the August Moon:” “I have made peace with myself somewhere between my ambitions and my limitations.”
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