It's hot. It's sticky-icky humid Washington in
summertime hot, and the aircon can't keep up. And I'm sitting here, dripping,
and basically waiting for evening when it cools down. Waiting for the day to be
over.
Whoa!! What's wrong with that? What's right
with that?
A day - a single day - doesn't seem like so much in the
middle of your life, but has infinitely more value at the end. I'm letting this
day basically dribble away, this day that has, whatever else, sunshine and
freedom and relative health and Dan in the same room with me. There were times
when I was facing a deadline, when I would love to have an extra day
before (whatever-it-was) was due. Or my friend whose husband has only a few
more months to live, I'm sure she would gratefully take this day, sticky-icky
temperature and all, and add it to his dwindling supply if she
could.
How could I take this day for granted? Maybe somewhere there's a cosmic reset button on today? Or at least, on my attitude?
