Dear reader, it has been a week. Yes seven days and it seems like only yesterday I was doing this. Where it is that time goes? I confess that sometimes I feel there is a hole somewhere that I am losing time out of. A hole in a pocket, a crack in an hour glass… it just keeps flowing like a sieve – sometimes I think I feel it trickle down my pant leg and leave this trail behind me.
I confess that time is my enemy. Or so I convinced myself many years ago. Time = life. I believe that, and yet I am not the best appropriator of time. There is absolutely no logic to it, but if life and time are interchangeable, I should value time all the more, but I seem to fear it. ~0~
I confess to enjoying the ball game yesterday. I confess I would have enjoyed it better if my wife were there. I confess too I am well aware she would not have enjoyed it very much. After the game, I came home and spent time sharing about the afternoon with her and hope that she was not bored by the talk. ~0~
I confess that Easter Sunday I ate too much before church. I not only ate too much but ate way too many carbs. I was hard to stay awake for Mass, in fact I physically felt horrible well into the afternoon. ~0~
I’ve been writing each day keeping up with NaPWriMo but I’ve not been especially happy with the draft/poems I’ve written. I can admit this, but I confess I am not particularly bothered by it. Normally this would bug me to no end. I’ve so far managed to not allow myself to beat myself up over them; figuring time will solve this problem. I confess I’m pretty happy keeping a positive spin on it. ~0~
This seems a good place to stop… on an upbeat note.
Thanks for indulging me.
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