It was a rough day, today. My dad seemed to be struggling and I did all the checks for stroke they tell you to do; squeeze my hand, raise your hand, smile, et al...

Nothing, I think, but it was worrisome. Just another day of being a caretaker. I look back on my last post, when I turned 39. and chuckle. If I had only known the curve balls life would throw at me in the last, oh, twelve years I wouldn't have been quite astonished at nearing 40. Now my 50's, woo, lemme tell ya'. That's been an adventure in anxiety....but more on that later, maybe.

I think I might use this more. Maybe it'll help to cut down on the worrying. Maybe it won't, but I have to try something. This might as well be it.

It's humorous, I guess, to turn an age that you honestly never thought you would get to. It sneaks up on you, like some type of predator in the wild, and takes you by surprise. My reaction to this ambush of age was a mix of surprise, anger and humor.

I turned 39 a week ago. And, good lord, but that number does look big sitting there on the left side of this paragraph. There was a time, in my mid-twenties, when I never thought I would see thirty, but I did. At that time though my reaction was one of, "huh, whaddya know?" I wasn't angry or, I'll admit it, frightened by it, just amazed that it was there. Thirty candles on a cake.

But this one. Well, this one is different, because so much has changed in the last nine years.

I do this blog and I wonder why. I love to write and being published, even if on a blog site such as this, is a unique experience. I wonder how many of us actually feel as if we're accomplishing something? Putting our words and expressions out there for the world to see.

Alrighty, then. Here it is, after Christmas, after New Years, and I'm getting ready to start the Spring semester. Am I nervous? Hell yes. Am I going to do this right? Hell yes. So why am I saying that? Beats me, but I do feel a little better. Affirmation; the bolster to my will.

Okay, I'll admit. I feel like an idiot in some ways. Whereas I used to have a lot to say (and I do mean a lot) now I find myself with few words. Maybe it has something to do with approaching middle age or the fact that I'm back in college? Certainly it has to do with the fact that I find myself without the overabundance of angst that used to plague me into my early 30's.

Anyway, I just finished my finals for the Fall semester '05 and, good lord, am I relieved! I've long thought about this and I'm certain that at least one reason for the high rate of suicides in colleges and university's during this time of year is the lack of any meaningful break during the fall semester. I signed up for three classes and had to drop one in the middle of the semester, and I still had to work my butt off for the two left!

I can't imagine the stress that full time students face today taking five to six classes at time. When in the hell do they find the time to eat or shower, much less be kids? Because they (or you) are. I'm not so old that I don't remember my early twenty's and it's about building your character during those years. Of course it helps to have cash to build with, but either way...

Anyway, I have to get up, do the three S's (sh**, shower and shave) and go do some mild Christmas shopping.