Frank the new guy at the office is an OK guy. He is older then me. One of those federallies who retired but for one re4ason or the other has rented the work place. He is our book keep/contract manager. Frank is an OK guy and gets to work way early, even earlier then I. we have gotten into a routine in the mornings since we are at the office usually an hour to forty-five minutes before anyone else gets in. We’re too old guys and we share stories and its fun. I am always talking about writing a book about growing up with a disability at least from fifteen on, since is when I got my disability. And the past couple of week he is always brining it up that I am sometime going to going to write this book. I don’t know if he is encouraging me or just goofing me. But I have I have been pondering the book again these past few weeks and am wondering if I could especially since I have done this blog project—I have constantly written every day the 500 words and if I had just written page every day I would have the book done by now. So why not? So this morning I cranked out the first 500 words. The task was much less painful then I thought it would be.
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