I’m up, so what better to do than write. No worrying about what tomorrow holds, or late night snacking. Just writing. I always feel like there’s a great deal to say but no simple way of funneling it efficiently into clear thought. There’s anecdotes and opinions just swirling around my head like 5 dollar bills in a used car lot cash grab, and me flailing my aging arms about trying to grasp cohesiveness…
…and then out of blue comes clarity, and I realize once again that I’ve managed, somehow, to sum up my very existence in a single metaphorical sentence.
And then I’m stuck again. Shit.
Forget the past, I say, for today is a new day. I suppose that’s more fortune cookie than actual insight, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Many a day has gone by confidently nurturing the spawn into her own identity, gazing at infinite pixels (be they work or play), and music, such wonderful music. I live in a world where all I want every day is another six hours, because there’s always either something I need to do, or something I long to do, and never time for both.
Life as you know it is in full swing. The usual combination of busy workweeks, multiple symphony concerts, school and family leaves little time for the frivolity of surfing the net. Yet I reminisce always about a time when there was little else to do. I suppose it is all about prioritization. And while I can’t say my priorities aren’t straight, that doesn’t mean I can’t shave a minute or two off each segment of my day to better communicate with those around me, right?
Right.
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