It was one of those weeks.
Peter was out of town on Wednesday and Thursday so I worked until way too late, turning off the computer at 11:00 p.m. both evenings. On top of that, it was a work week filled with challenges. (Don't get me wrong—I like challenges, just not all day, every day.)
And then on Friday, Peter was delayed and got back in town late for a dinner and concert date with friends. So when we fell into bed a little after midnight on Friday night, we were both exhausted to the max. We hadn't had a moment to catch up.
My early Saturday morning haircut with Kelly was the first opportunity I had to do a thought dump. She listened, as she always does. She told me the week I described was consistent with my Type A behavior.
Hard to imagine a seventy-three-year-old with Type A behavior. I guess it's time I got used to it.