Strange are the things I tend to think about when alone and introspective.
No different as I read Frederick Forsyth's, The Deceiver. While closing the book in anticipation of a client arriving, this thought came to mind: "I sure will miss reading when I'm dead."
Too young to be thinking such things, but I suppose not when setting priorities and making commitments. Too bad I didn't have such thoughts when I was young and dumb.