I said fifty-nine days ago that I would write something every day. So far-so good. It hasn't always been brilliant, Hemingway-like or even coherent, but I have, so date, kept my promise.
Today is by far the most difficult. The backstory isn't that unusual. A series of events have led me to the bottom of this pit. I have been trying with my best effort to raise collateral to get out of debt, pay back taxes, continue medical treatment and help my brother, who seems to have fallen into the pit next to mine.
My home of 30 years is on the market as a fire sale. Along with everything else I own.
Yesterday I sold a motorcycle and literally pocketed the cash. When I heard that my brother's son wasn't going to play Little League this year because they could't afford the $150 fee, my plan was to swing over after our 90 minute spin class and offer to get him back in the game.
I was very happy about this timely turn of events and looking forward to watching him play, as I have every year since he fist started T-Ball, maybe six years ago.
I never made it to their beautiful house. He never got the gift.
Somebody broke into my locker while we were working out, stealing all the cash.
It isn't a lot of money. I will make it back. Life will go on.
Some of the guys anted up and gave me a bit cash to get by till Monday morning. God bless you boys.
I'm going over tomorrow to see Junior. It might not be too late.
Here's to a brighter Day Sixty!
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