Over Adaption

Brrrrrrrrrrrr...it’s cold.

Winter is finally here...sort of.

I mean, there’s still 6 weeks and change before winter is "officially" here.

I know, I did the research...just to impress all of you naysayers who are pretty sure, I usually don’t.

And you’d be usually right...but this time I did.

I’m adapting, because the last thing I want is to be accused of “Fake Blogging”.

Which of course I do...on a regular basis...I just don’t want to be accused of it.

Bada Boom....

Yeah, okay. I know....

I’ve use that particular “hi-larious” set up more than a few times, in the past.

But it’s been a while and I’m hoping most of you don’t pay attention to that kind of thing, let alone any of this stuff, at all.

Or you’ve just adapted to “I guess this is the most we can hope for, from this guy?” and let it slide.

So thanks for your under enthusiasm...I’ve adapted to that, myself.

Speaking of adaption, which you should know we were—even if you aren’t paying all that much attention—since I’ve mentioned it now in some form or another, five times, plus it’s in the title.

So...speaking of adaption—six—and getting back to the point I was originally making—I think—winter is finally here...sort of.

The days have grown frosty, the nights have grown longer and I’ve switched from gin to Jameson when it comes to evening cocktail time.

Also, I’m no longer sitting out on my back porch enjoying the evening sunset, mostly because, now, it usually occurs while I’m enjoying my afternoon nap.

So instead of sunsets and gin, I’ve moved onto warm toasty fires and Irish whiskey to unwind from my long stressful day...after my nap.

Which is even more stressful, especially now, with the whole winter/dark thing creeping back into the picture.

Plus, I can’t remember which pair of long underwear is mine and which is Z’s.

But it doesn’t really matter since I kind of like the bunnies and butterflies on the pair I’m wearing now.

Don’t let it be said, I can’t adapt to whatever life throws my way.

I mean, I can’t...but don’t let it be said.

Ha...see...I snuck another one right by you!

You never saw it coming.

No adaption there...I mean, by you...not me.

I’m actually pretty flexible when it comes to adapting...which may or may not be the same thing.

In fact, I’ve finally adapted to that whole puberty thing.

But, man...was that a weird time.

So what’s a little darkness by five O’clock...or sub-freezing wind chills, in the teens...in the middle of the day...in November?

Who cares if it was 70 degrees just a week ago and our shorts and beach towels are still hanging on the chair.

We adapt.

Even with the thought of weeks and weeks and months ahead, of more of the same.

We bundle up, lower our heads into the wind and relentlessly trudge, through snow and ice.

Or at least encourage those that actually do have to do those kinds of crazy things, while we sit inside, toasty and warm composing nonsense for the masses...or at least a couple of people.

It’s what we do...or what I do...sometimes...when I’m not trying to figure out what I already saw or didn’t see on Netflix...which can be confusing...unless you adapt and just watch stuff twice...or more than twice...which is fine, because you don’t remember most of it anyway.

Adaption...it’s what we humans do best...aside from all the animals and other forms of life who never give this kind of stuff any thought at all.

But then that’s why we have the Jameson, and they don’t.

Brrrrrrrrrrrr...it’s cold....

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