Seattle is turning into a ghost town, as everyone heads off for the holidays. I'm a ghost, wandering the city. This is the type of rainy weather that makes me feel like heading to some hole in the wall and drinking and smoking myself into oblivion while trying to capture coherent thoughts on a cocktail napkin.
I've been operating the airport shuttle service this week, driving everyone to the airport. The last batch heads off today. Then it will be me myself and I for a few days. A good chance to catch up on basic life maintenance--laundry, clean the room, pay the bills, read a book or two. Plan out the year to come.
I think my years alternate in quality. Every odd year is great, and then the even years are not so good. This was an even year, so I can't say it was all that great. I'll be glad to kick it out the door of a moving car. Among other things, I didn't travel this year. That always is the sign of a bad year, when I don't travel. Next year I will have to get ahead of the work curve.
I bet I finish a few books in the next day or two. This weather is all about reading. Like plane flights. Only I'm going nowhere.