.. I want to be content.

“There’s an old man sitting next to me, Making love to his tonic and gin.”

There’s a boatload of dreams in my head. Visions of what could be. Great and powerful deeds, fame and fortune.

But if I get to an age where I’m pretty much “old”, then I’d like Contentment to be one of my defining character traits.

When I no longer have the strength of body to attempt wrestling my kids or grandkids. When my eyes fade and make reading harder than all get-out. When my youthful good looks (ha ha) become masterful lines of wisdom.

More, when I have to face the idea that I won’t be able to achieve the Dreams that are still Dreams ..

.. Then I want to be content.

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It’s happening again. Easy to tell. When a cold and delicious can of Diet Coke makes you more tired than before, then you know .. it’s time.

So here I am, a night and a day in. Almost 24 hours.

Things get a little more depressing. Obviously there are similarities going clean to drugs I imagine. Most people can agree you get addicted to caffiene.

But right now, in the midst of the needle and dagger and six-foot two-hander stuck in my eye, things seem especially low.

Diet Coke.

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