Year of the Rooster

Right now I'm staring at the screen, as I have for the past four years or so, with nothing to say. Nothing to tell the world, nothing to tell myself, even. My head is a jumble of thoughts careening wildly from my current state of health to the state of affairs in our country and indeed in our world. I feel lost and confused and lonely.

My birth year, 1957, was the Year of the Rooster, and again this year, 2017, is the Year of the Rooster. In one more month, I will turn sixty years old. From what I've heard, this is an auspicious time in Asian custom; age sixty marks the completion of five life cycles, twelve years each. So this year, I will attempt to add notes to this new and private journal in hopes that some of the words swimming around in my head can be released to "paper" as it were.

For today, I have no definite plans other than the usual: laundry, shower, run errands, walk the dogs, attempt to stay away from the internet which is a cause of much stress in my life, and to eat better. I may or may not be successful at any of these tasks.

We shall see.