My days start with coffee and a declaration of either, "Today is the day," or "Tomorrow will be the day." An afternoon free from work and obligations places me in my favorite chair next to my favorite table (handcrafted by my late father,) sipping on my favorite beverage (coffee,) ready to do what I know I was meant to do. . . share my thoughts and discoveries with the world.
I've done this many times. This is not new. And every time I sit down to write my blog, I toil over where to begin. So much has happened in the last year alone. So much has happened since I moved to Texas from Chicago. So much has happened since my father was diagnosed with ALS. So much has happened since I moved to Chicago from Peoria. So much has happened since college in Boston.
I feel fortunate that the mistress of fate consistently churns my stew to bring the meat to the surface, forcing me to distinguish what is important and what is filler. That stagnant soup needs some turning over to stay fresh, and I'm thankful for all the ingredients, no matter how difficult to swallow.
My name is Nicholas James Boettcher.