The Day After

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 Santa is packing his red Speedo and getting ready for the beach.  I’ll probably see him sometime in the near future down here in Florida.  He might be seen in the Bahamas or places in the Caribbean.  But he’ll be spotted.  He’ll be incognito as much as Santa can be and will be in search of seclusion.  Frankly, I’d like to join him and smoke my pipe with him.  His work is over until spring when he needs to be getting back.  

Frankly, I know he’s relieved today but might be wondering about his gifts.  But nothing he can do now but learn from his mistakes and hope for a better Christmas next year.  He has a lot to think about which is why he seeks seclusion.  

Frankly, no one wants to be Santa in this day and age, but he’s used to disappointment.  He focuses on the joy he’s brought and will do better next time.  He’s always seeking to do better.  In fact, we all do.  We want the next Christmas to be better than the last one.  Which brings me to the New Year.  We all want next year to be better than this year.  It matters not.  I could go through my list and even say how I’ll improve next year.  

I hope to go to the gym more often next year.  Our insurance expires on the 31st and next year I have to pay for the gum out of my own pocket.  If I’m paying for it instead of insurance I might be more motivated to use my gum membership more.  But that is one goal I have.  My phone nags me about exercising more and I hate to see my phone tell me to get more exercise.  It’s not happy unless I do exercise more.  

I’ll work on that and try to keep AI on my phone happy.  I got an Apple Watch for Christmas that monitors my heart and blood pressure and will even do an ELG if I can get that figured out.  Maybe I’ll smoke my pipe less and exercise more although while my phone might figure it out, relaxation is good for my heart and stress isn’t.  I’m thinking my phone will figure out what is best for me.  

I could just lower the calorie count per day to zero and then it won’t care.  I have a perfect love/hate relationship with my phone.  Sometimes I think it knows too much about me.  But then it’s just a phone.  Right?  It’s not my wife or girlfriend as the case may be, but it cares.  Maybe too much.  But I’ll live with it.  Meanwhile I’ll smoke my pipe as I wish and tell myself I’ll exercise more although my phone won’t be happy.  But then does my phone really care?  So this afternoon it is my Gettysburg pipe with Cinnamon Delight and my coffee is Stumptown Homestead coffee.  Thank you for your time and Peace to each one of you.

Dave

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