I'm also working on a book on recovery. In fact, call me butter 'cuz I'm on a roll. After more than two years of kicking ideas around in my head, I'm finally setting pen to paper, so to speak. The words are neatly flowing into organized themes. Unfortunately, I find myself doing precisely what constantly I warn others with my illness against - namely, with regard to sleep and other routines, we need to exercise strict discipline. Last night I stayed up till 2 AM. I could have gone till late morning.

One AM is my outer limit. No excuses. Feel free to call me out.

A couple of months ago, what I thought was a leg cramp turned out to be severe sciata. I spent eight days on the couch, looking up at the ceiling fan. I'm better now, but the experience reminded me that I'm entering the decade where things start falling apart. I have two choices - learning to live with the natural process of aging or becoming a grumpy old man.

In the meantime, age has it's compensations. I'm one trimester away from being a grandfather and having the most spoiled grandkid in the world. My daughter and her fantastic husband live in New Zealand. Time to check out air fares.

That's my life for the time being. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you.