Welcome back,
Seymour Taft awoke in his armchair seconds before sunlight oozed through the gap below his slanted blinds and lit his groggy face. Blinking, rubbing his eyes, and yawning, he considered closing the blinds all the way, or at least making them even. Cheryl had said that leaving them crooked would wear them out faster. Seymour had no particular interest in the durability of his blinds, but the nebulous sense that he was doing something wrong set him on edge. And besides, it would be nice to be able to sleep without the sun waking him up. That's it. That's what he would do. Start the day out right, even up the blinds. Do the little things, and the big things would take care of themselves. Someone had said that to him, and he believed it. Today would be the day.
Who knows where such a simple action could lead him. His limited imagination brimmed with possibilities. Maybe, bouyed by his first small success so soon after the day started, he'd go down to the lake and sign up for sailing lessons. Finally get that haircut he'd been wanting and change his whole look. He didn't have much money, but with a little searching and a little effort, he could refresh his wardrobe, dress real sharp and go out on the town. Start exercising again. Eat right. So much to do today.
The day's possibilities cracked Seymour's torpor. Popping out of his chair, he quickly showered, dressed, and flew out the door.
Until the tides turn,
walter