Tomorrow
July 1, 2010
There are days when nothing falls in place, when my brain and body aren’t in sync. On such days, I merely float. I find a thing that briefly catches my interest, invest in it, then get distracted. I’m sure I have important things to do, but I can’t clarify what they are. Vague instructions, like errant helium balloons, bump against each other on the walls of my consciousness
write… clean… call… food… read… go… make… buy…
Try as I might, I can’t make the day work. An attempt at a jumpstart nap turns into a tossing and turning session. Coffee makes me sleepy. I go out to run errands and forget half of them, even with a list in hand. I try to write and the thesis BBs won’t fall into the holes.
I get to nearly the end of such a day and realize I can’t think of anything I’ve really accomplished… failure.
But then, the sun goes down, and the buzzy night noises filter in through the window screens, and I realize that I’ll get to sleep and wake and try again in the morning. At that moment I breathe, and the dripping faucet of guilt stops its dripping, and I realize that, for all her faults, Scarlett O’Hara really did have some wisdom.
A nice thing… Fiddle-dee-dee. After all, tomorrow is another day.
Fiddle-dee-dee. I say it every night when I go to bed with a sink full of dishes.
I’m glad I’m not the only one and I see you as a successful person and talented and creative in so many ways. Love the helium balloon imagery…
I know those days all too well. I need to learn how to let go and look forward. Thanks.
At the end of every day, you just have to say “Today I did the best that I could” and recognize that some days that will be a lot more and a lot better than other days. Fiddle dee dee.
There are also pinball days, when you’re propelled from bumper to bumper at high speed and with no control over it.