The Lion That Roared

The personalities that surrounded me were either indifferent or mirroring the weather: glum.  Glum Glummington: The kind of thing where it's hard to find any get up and git.  I'm a dealmaker, so I can't say I boogie to that, uh...ideal.

What's this?  We're making the turn back to studio life and some of those surrounding the current zone don't like it?  Of course not - it's change, and the adjustments these folks take at this aspect in life is their own while watching others move...who gives a fuck?  The check is gonna clear, the doctor said I was healthy, and the changes that are happening to me, made by me, are all gold. 

Then I was writing Dr. Gold an e mail and I wrote a sentence describing what I was had to do this weekend.  (I neglected to include things like drink alcohol and check the lines for the Big Sky, but this would be redundant)  I almost sent my own reaction because those are the moments, not when you're in the thick of it, but a random brain separation almost knocks you over.  It's happened to me before (good and bad, mostly good) and I'm sure it's happened to you, too.  If you stopped and looked backward with any regularity, everything you did that was different from before would seem "odd" or "a cautionary moment."  But those of us in Dealville don't live life that way - we move forward.  Onward. 

There are people who spend time on a daily basis using phrases such as "When I worked at..."  "Back in the '90s, I used to"  "I remember when you used to have to"  They are wading in the pool.  We nod, smile, politely bullshit with "That must have been something" and shake our heads when we leave.

As such, we gotta a lot to do: move shit, assemble it, and begin anew...but this isn't starting over.  2013 means staring these deals for the first time.