49 is coming. In the past decade I’ve made a pretty big deal about my birthday, mostly because it’s the last moment of ‘joy’ before the anniversary of the incident. This year? Not so much. It’s the weight of the issues at work, being in Philly still after the deadline, missing my people. COVID, being around people these days who aren’t named little one or Daddy isn’t very attractive.

I will have to send the letter off this week so the lawyer and I can prep. I’m not 100% sure what to expect in the mediation. Arbitration? Yes I am a pro at that. Mediation? not as much. I understand I will present my facts, they will toss out some of theirs. At the end of the day with the favor of the universe they will make an offer I am willing to accept and we can ramp up moving. Before the New Year arrives I might have a new zip code.

I’m down 3 pounds and the new eating habits are frustrating as fuck but in the end it will make the 50th year spectacular.

It’s a warm sunny day here, I have coffee and I’m washing clothes. I have love and I have quiet. I suppose every celebration doesn’t have to be fireworks. Some can just be gratitude.