 To Cute to Be Guilty The final straw comes sometimes when you leave the room and forget to pick up your mug that you just had some sinfully delicious French silk ice cream to comfort yourself after a very long and busy day and you hear it crash to the floor because your little dog is trying to lick the last of the temptations from the bottom, well, you know you may have had enough. This realization comes to you when you come out of the bathroom and say under your breath, "someone is in trouble," only to find your sweet little companion cowering in the corner, knowing he did something bad and all you can do it pat his head, give him a comforting stroke down his neck and back, pick up the cup, crawl on the floor to find the spoon under the recliner, and think to yourself, this is just another little thing to keep you from filing your personal quarterly report.
And there you have it. It is October First. First day of the Fourth Quarter of the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Eighteen. Just three months left in another year you thought would be so difference...this time...and it really wasn't. Yet it was. You thought you would travel more. And you did. Just not where you thought you might. You thought you would practice a more healthy lifestyle, you know, diet, mindfulness meditation, reading, writing, all the things you always say you want to do. And you have to a certain extent. Just not to the extent you envisioned during Quarter One, January First, that blessed time when a clean and bright calendar is hung, promising that this year...this year...will be the year. Instead life happens. Just as it always does. So on the is day when everything I did seemed to be for someone else, even to the point of getting a fluoride treatment from the dentist you don't think is necessary but your dentist believes in, so you do every quarterly visit. And people say you are a nice guy, a good man, and you wonder if that is really so when you often think you'd rather be doing something else, somewhere else, but know you must do what you do because, well, because, you are needed to. And you sit down at your computer, bang out a blog with long, hard to read sentences, just like life seems to be at the moment...long, run-on, and a bit difficult to decipher. And there you are. Ready to go to bed. Knowing you have done your best...wore yourself out to the point that a silly mug falling off the end-table causes you a moment of regret. It's just a mug. And that, my dear readers, is my quarterly report. Let me know if any of it makes sense. I really want to know.
2 Comments
|
Rob McMurray,
|