Coming Back Down To Earth

"…How's life treating you anyway?"

A little line received in an e-mail, a thoughtful gesture, and very much appreciated by yours truly. It gave me pause- I wondered: just how have I been treated by 'life' lately? People who follow this blog may well wonder; the last few weeks have found me careening between topics like the steely orb in a pinball machine. But that is just the nature of the blog. It's a place for ideas and observations to crawl out from the dark depths of the sub-conscious into the bright light of 'reality'(virtual or otherwise.) So that's good! (I think.)

Work: Good. A little better renumeration in the employment scene would be nice, but just about everyone could say that.

Family: Not a problem.

Health: The obvious concern of that question, both physical and mental. Physically, good, after what was probably the toughest winter of my life. When you turn 40, you wish you were 20 again. When you turn 50, you would settle for 40. When you approach 55, 50 looks pretty good. That said, the old bod is doing all right.

That brings the mental health question. Coming from a long line of worriers, depressives and pessimists (read: scandinavians), I still get the darkness once in a while. I can deal with it pretty well by now, although the middle-of-the-night visits are the worst.
Just when I really could use some sleep, all my shortcomings and fears start jumping around inside my head. It really is nothing compared to episodes in my younger days. I could fly higher then, but the return to earth was always a crash, whereas it's only a little bumpy now.

Thanks for asking.