I still have fingers

There are times when I type, type, type, type with stories and grumbling reflections (emoos) and then times when I funk out. That’s what the situation is now; my fingers have not fallen off. I think this month is turning into a funk out month. Actually, were my mood on a menu, I would call it the Funk Out entree with Run Around like a Chicken with its Head Cut off on the side. I’d probably have room for The Sky is Falling dessert. This might be due to my approaching official Senior Citizen birthday, or maybe it is just random AmeliaJake brain chemical action. I was thinking that 60 never looked so good until now, but it occurs to me that if I live five more years, I will be thinking that 65 never looked so good.

I think I will go into the Foo Bar and just sit back and emoo.