Left to Her Own Devices

A little after 7:00am. The thing about running a daily blog, even if it consists only of monologues you perform before an uncaring universe, is that you can review any portion of the day you so desire.   Even only an hour of wakefulness if it suits you. Sometimes you have to change it up from the 11:00pm hussle.  You don’t have the full day’s events, but you have the desire to look forward and plan and be hopeful rather than worn down.

Sunday, however, is another sort of animal.  It’s the last hurrah of the weekend, in case you were unfamiliar with a Sunday’s role in your sense of the calendar.  And on Sundays, we hussle.

So I have a day to review because I held off completing this post.  I am very aware of late how much I hummingbird around in my life.  Just moving from point to point, dropping things for other things, mostly opening new tabs on my browser or deciding I need to get a new bottle of water rather than finishing the old one.  I have, I’m afraid, some very terrible habits.

I realize now how painfully necessary it will be to correct them if I ever hope to make something of myself at either the company or my own goal of becoming a writer.  Because a half-finished anything isn’t a product that does well at market.  People tend to want to know the end of a story, or to have the email sent.  The meaning to and wishing to don’t provide any additional cache.  It needs to be completed and completed well.

Because otherwise, things happen that need not happen.  Like me taking the keys that don’t have the house key on them.  Being aware of this, but deciding that my sister was home and I would be fine to take a little trip to the mall without a house key.  I turned the lock and idly left.  This ended up meaning after a lengthy mall crawl that had me actually considering the ugliness of Victoria Secret bras…I think I was under the impression that they would be made of moonbeams…and buying some things I wanted but wished I could have spent more time considering.  There is no time for consideration these days.  At any rate, you must already be made aware that I’ve looked at facebook any number of times in trying to get these few four hundred words out.

And none of these words tell you how marvelous it was to speak to my friend from Canada and be assured that she is planted precisely where she ought to be – growing toward the light of her dreams – and how instantly kind she was.

Or how all of my not having a house key meant I went to Old Chicago to charge my phone while I waited for my sister – who had left – to return home and I ate a high-carb calzone.  Or at least half of one because I was still so full from my low-carb choices that I couldn’t finish it.  And none of these words say how I felt as though that was the only thing I could do which is ridiculous.

So.  Tomorrow.  A steadier hand, less time thinking about boys who are preoccupied elsewhere, and remembering to pick up the coffee in the morning.  No tears.


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