One Is A Lonely Number

Sometimes when I have to work late and no one is around I get the willies. The willies are something like the creeps. I am alone with my thoughts, which always get steered to "Why am I still working so hard at 58?" The answer is always the same: "I spend a lot of money and I have to keep the cash flowing." That is what I say when I am feeling sorry for myself. When I get past that I realize that without work, I would probably have no identity. But my identity is nothing compared to Cindy Adams and Liz Smith, both in their '80s. I am not anywhere near as famous, talented and driven. What makes these dames tick? Everyday, like mailmen, they deliver their columns filled with new and fascinating material. Day after day, year after year, they have been alive with copy. I like to think about them and then I don't feel so lonely at the computer when everyone else is asleep. Maybe if I work harder, I can be just like them at 80-plus.