Yesterday was yesterday. “Days that aren’t catastrophes” are always good days. I‘ll fight anyone who disagrees*... and that‘s 2020 and 2021 for you, perhaps into an indefinite forever.
I applied for several more jobs, blah blah. Watched TV and devoured an astounding book called “The Lucky Few.” That could and should be a whole separate post for a different day.
Haven‘t dabbled with my writing class much so far, but I still have to catch up. I’ve just felt... less than sharp the last few days. Nervous about what my output would be as well, so it has given me some degree of writer’s block. I’ll catch up though or, or worst case scenario, just recycle something I’ve already written. That wouldn’t be the worst thing... it’s still something I wrote myself!
I hate the natural decay of aging. Life isn’t a game of Candyland, but it is still a doozy thinking of the future. I’m not sure if I think about it too much or not enough. There might not be a right answer.
I have had a beautiful life. Beautiful does not mean easy. But despite it all, there is beauty in overcoming and becoming.
One of my favorite lines from Anne Sexton’s “Live or Die” -
“I promise to love more if they come. Because in spite of cruelty... I am not what I expected. The poison just didn’t take. So I won’t hang around in my hospital shift, repeating the black mass and all of it. I say live - live for the sun, the dream, the excitable gift.”
Couldn’t have said it any better.
* I won’t literally, but forever trying to be at least 10% grateful.
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