Five More Sleeps

If I felt some guilt about going on and on and on in this blog about El Poema, I don’t so much after speaking with him last night. Indeed, I have learned there are several people in far off Mexico City who know about me now. Imagine! I now have a reputation in several continents!

**snip**

I just deleted a whole paragraph I spent 30 minutes writing. Let’s just say my hyper-rational side is struggling with how I seem to be behaving like someone who turned 24 last Sunday, not 42. I’m also struggling with the [re]discovery of the big ole marshmellow that’s inside me. That started happening well before encountering El Poema, so don’t worry about me in that respect. Actually, I’m finding a lot of humour these days in how I’m the only person I fooled into believing that there was anything but a big ole marshmellow inside me.

I guess I come by my initials honestly: M&M — hard and crunchy on the outside, soft and gooey on the inside. And my rational side is having a major fit right about now.