2/27, I think. Format will get up to speed. Circulation will maximize. People will be notified selectively and it will invariably become the high point of their day.

In the last two years I wrote about 1000 pages, which I still have, about how my boss and my wife fucked me over, neither literally, alas. Prior life: fairly predictable, 25 year marriage, 25 year job. Woke up the morning after. No way. Not suicidal alas. Shit happened that threw me back on my own very rusty resources at an age I may or may not reveal, but, as someone said, if I died tomorrow, no one would say I died young.  Stuff I wrote was bitter, even for me, who tends to like bitter. Friends dropped away. Phone wouldn't ring for a week at a time. Killed NY Times and Cable to save money and remove myself from the world. Sat around waiting to die. After six years I was still sitting in the same position. After seven, I realized that anger is finite and no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't be pissed off at everybody anymore.

That's when the interesting stuff started to happen. That's what I want to write about for me so I might be able to understand it (I write to understand myself) and for you to witness if you care to.

No one gets killed or runs in the Special Olympics. First days most tentative entry ends with following note: If you had asked me 7 years ago, would you rather continue as you are, calmly and deadly for the rest of your life or have it all taken away and be forced to start again obscenely late in life, no question I would have opted for the former, no way I had the will or energy to start again. Guess what? I had not choice. The board was blank. The game began with all black pieces. The key word to the title of this blog is the last one. How I got there if indeed I am is what I aim to try to figure out. I can't be sure I'm there because I never was there before. But then again, can any of us be sure of anything. I figure I'll do this for a week, send it out and see if anyone cares if I continue or not, assuming I can poke my head out through the endless noise of the internet, our salvation and curse. Thanks for listening. I was an editor. I will try to edit typos out of this but nothing more. Blogging is one of those things like riding a tricycle where you just get on the seat and realize you can pedal anywhere.

First couple of entries will probably have me talking to myself much more than entries after I figure out what the fuck I am doing and how to make  my life look pretty typographical-- especially the worst parts. Ok. We have lift-off.