That's the third time I've written that and it's only 7:27 a.m. I wrote it once in the change room for the sake of the city that has to know how many people swim each day to check the chemical levels of the pool. You have to sign in with date and time, and I'm always first so I note the new month. I wrote it again on a new page in my diary, and tried to assess the new month, not sure how much I can get done, juggling not only time but NOISE (more anon). And now, three, blog-time.

Where are you going and why are you here? (Sooner or later, we all ask those questions, some later, but as one gets older, they arise sooner and more often.)

Well, yes, those are tough questions but they keep getting blind-sided by whatever hits you that requires an immediate response. Remind me: one of these days I will have to discuss pataphysics. Oh, my, I can see bogging down in blog. As I've said before, blog yesterday and blog tomorrow but never blog today.

Time to go. Work to be done.

I always seem to feel so guilty if I haven't kept in touch with people, someone I should phone or write (usually a snail mail letter because these people are not into the techie age), or maybe someone I should have over for coffee, tea, wine, or some appropriate meal. I transfer names from list to list and it takes a while to get to them, sometimes quite a long while, but every once in that same while I wonder, why don't they think of me? Why don't they feel guilty about not calling me? Why am I always the one to reach out? If you are nodding your head, then you're one of the reachers and not one of the takers.

But I wonder, would I feel any better if someone reached out to me? Probably not. I'd probably feel more guilty. Is it possible to get through a week or even a day without feeling an obligation to do something for someone? I remember years ago when my older daughter was in high school, she paused before she left one morning and asked me what I was going to do that day. And I told her about someone who was ill and needed soup, so I'd take some, and someone else - I forget all - but I had a list.

"You mean you spend time thinking about what you can do for others?" She looked at me in horror. "I"m never going to do that."

She does, though. Did I lay it on her?