It's always a mistake to wait until the end of the day to write. In the morning my intentions are so good, and the day is so full of promise. There are a million plans waiting to be executed, each one sure to make a difference in how I feel about the world and myself. By the time dusk starts to creep in I realize that I've blown it again. I didn't run. Heck, I didn't walk. I didn't get as much laundry done and put away as I'd hoped. I didn't send out enough resumes to find the perfect job. The list goes on and on.
There were things I did do, of course. I played chauffeur for my college son. We went to visit my mother and fed her lunch to her, bite by unappetizing bite. We went to Town Hall to get a flu shot (which apparently isn't offered until next week....I really should start reading signs), and we got Himself's car to the shop so that it no longer sounds like a Sherman tank as it zooms down the highway. The list isn't nearly as impressive as I would like it. There is time to get something else done, of course. Another load of laundry, dinner, the Board of Directors meeting for my theater group. Mostly I would like a nap, but the likelihood of that is dwindling fast.
So, like most of the human race, I fall a bit short of my target pretty much every day. At least I still have a target most days. And tomorrow morning, assuming I am granted another day (which most of us blithely take for granted, but I've learned better), I'll give it another shot. Maybe that's what matters most. That we don't just shrug our shoulders and say, "Well, that's just the way it goes," because I am not ready to settle for that. Are you?
There were things I did do, of course. I played chauffeur for my college son. We went to visit my mother and fed her lunch to her, bite by unappetizing bite. We went to Town Hall to get a flu shot (which apparently isn't offered until next week....I really should start reading signs), and we got Himself's car to the shop so that it no longer sounds like a Sherman tank as it zooms down the highway. The list isn't nearly as impressive as I would like it. There is time to get something else done, of course. Another load of laundry, dinner, the Board of Directors meeting for my theater group. Mostly I would like a nap, but the likelihood of that is dwindling fast.
So, like most of the human race, I fall a bit short of my target pretty much every day. At least I still have a target most days. And tomorrow morning, assuming I am granted another day (which most of us blithely take for granted, but I've learned better), I'll give it another shot. Maybe that's what matters most. That we don't just shrug our shoulders and say, "Well, that's just the way it goes," because I am not ready to settle for that. Are you?
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