There has been some talk in the last few years about degrees of separation. So I know Brad Pitt. Not directly, but some one I know knows some one that knows him. So how many degrees of separation between any two people are there? Some studies say three, some say five, some say 10degrees. All I know for sure is that I have three degrees of separation between my daughter and myself. In the summer, she likes the AC on 78 and I like it on 81.
Is there a Richter scale for stress? If so, this month would probably top the charts. There have been a lot of emotions floating around, possibilities, ideas, changes, and I failed. I failed because I did not look down. I failed because I forgot about my commitment. I failed because I closed my eyes. I failed because I forgot for 30 days what I did just over two years ago. Buckle up in the time machine, back to 2011. Managing multiple projects, multi city weeks - New York, Indiana, Tennessee, North Carolina and vacation on the horizon. Vacation. Relax time. So I walked into the tattoo parlor and 30 minutes later, permanently engraved on the inside of my right wrist. My son held my hand, because, yeah, it fucking hurts. Then I left for the Caribbean. Whimsical? Crazy? Maybe. But it has turned into a tool. A quick turn of the wrist and I calm down. A constant reminder. Deep breaths. It will all be OK. Those ten things you need to get done today, yeah, they will be there tomorrow. But I forgot to use my tool for almost the entire month of July. My relax failed. But it's back now. I got this. And here we are. I have a left wrist. And it's screaming for "Tonight" To borrow from George Strait... "Just close your eyes and you can see" "Give it all we got tonight" "Anything can happen" "Trust it" "Drink up" "It should just happen like this"