Wit and wisdom I am without tonight.

Monday is the day when everything happens, and this one was no different. The Boss and I are tangling over what to do with the little money we have right now. We're either in the middle or at the end of several jobs, which means that bills are coming due but our payments haven't been collected yet.

The only thing we agree on is that he and I are not going to miss a paycheck. He could afford to, since he's got thousands socked away in a savings account and hundreds of thousands more in his father's trust, should any real emergency come up. I couldn't skip a check without either dodging a bill or skimping on groceries.

So I pay myself first, the Boss second, and then we haggle over who gets anything left over. And since the bills all have to be paid eventually, we discuss where we might come up with funds to sweeten the rapidly draining pot.

He always wants to pay suppliers, so that he can buy more materials and keep the newer jobs going. I always want to pay the monthly bills that keep coming around no matter what we do. Phone bills, insurance, taxes — and of course the interest on the money we had to borrow to keep it all in motion.

But I've been with him for almost fifteen years, and it's been like this the whole time, and we've been having these same arguments over and over. So I don't get quite as stressed as I used to, during the low-cash-flow periods.

Everything's cyclical, as we who wince at the political news keep reminding ourselves. We ride out the storm, shore up the levee, and prepare for the next disaster. There ain't no Easy Street in the real world, unless you've already got it all. Those of us trying to get it just have to keep on trying, because that's all there is.

But guess what? My camellias are starting to bloom. Buds all over the place, and a few big pink blossoms.

Could spring be far behind? The cherry blossoms downtown are beginning to show up, still spread far apart like little settlements in the wilderness. Soon, though, we'll have big, densely populated cities of pink and white on every tree along the way.

Meanwhile, anything with the good grace to flower the first week in February has my wholehearted gratitude.

We're getting into the weekday schedule, Suzanne and I, that will keep Mom from having to endure too much time alone. It's not that there are so many things she needs to do and can't. It's the things she wants to do and can't.

And the boredom, of course, which is why I'm so happy to narrate the soap operas for her every day. I can tell you who's doing what to whom on Port Charles, General Hospital and Days of Our Lives. More importantly, I can tell Mom. (Did you know Jack and Jennifer ran into each other at the Paris airport today? How about that, huh?)

I fully intend to answer all of the wonderful, supportive messages some time this week. Then I'll get to the other ones.