What a New Year

Dears:
Your probably weren't aware that newspapers are in trouble; venerable ones are in bankrupsy and others are shrinking their content and laying off editorial staff, which, translated, means "writers." I am one of them. My paper didn't publish this week or won't next for lack of funds.
Therefore, this week I applied for 5 new jobs for pennies on the dollar of what I'm worth, and the competition was so intense that more than hundreds of talented and capable writers applied, too, for the pittance that was offered.
I won't know for several days if I got any assignments. Meanwhile, I have a good New Years Eve story.
Since John and I live with many, many old people, we all gathered at our clubhouse, turned on CNN (which is three hours ahead in time on satellite), kissed each other and blew horns ( I provided) at 9p.m, because it was midnight in New York and the crystal ball had dropped. Then we went home and went to bed. Good show for old people.
To celebrate a small but vital quarterly payment, we went to our favorite restaurant, ordered the most expensive things on the menu, tipped the piano player $5, and toasted the new year with decaf coffee.
We also charged a trip to Russia. By June, we may have it almost paid off.
We also sent some slippers to Carole because she had coveted Tim's, and you know that's a sin.
I love you all. We're walking around the corner to pork steak and baked beans courtesy of one of our social residents and I'll just wish any soul who reads this a very happy New Year.