I have been thinking about assumptions. I assume that I will wake up tomorrow and that my weekend, which I am waiting for will occur. As I age this gets idea gets more regular as if the passing of time, having grown greater since its beginning will continue unchecked. So I plan uninterrupted in a kind of luxury. I can't imagine or focus on time being finite, yet ultimately it is. Somehow I wonder what meetings we take for granted because we believe that they are going to happen again. What would I say if I thought that I was not going to see.... well that is for another day.