You’d think that turning forty would feel significant somehow. But no, just another day. I’m not even celebrating till the weekend.
The big project from hell at work seems to be done with, so no more long hours for a while. And my back is feeling pretty decent. Now that I have time I should take a sick day and see a doctor. (Where the hell did that work-over-health ethic come from?) First I have to figure out what the new insurance company expects of me.
And trying to keep my drawing skills from totally atrophying:

The big project from hell at work seems to be done with, so no more long hours for a while. And my back is feeling pretty decent. Now that I have time I should take a sick day and see a doctor. (Where the hell did that work-over-health ethic come from?) First I have to figure out what the new insurance company expects of me.
And trying to keep my drawing skills from totally atrophying:
