Another daily writing exercise—some day I’m sure I’ll regret putting up such random stuff on this blog.
Some days are like that.
They creep up on you so quiet that before you hear the whisper of their footsteps, they already have their arms around you, looking over your shoulders, nudging your cheek with their noses like the familiar, errant lovers you let back into your life more than once, only to regret it.
They ask to share your coffee and hang around as you check your mail, or get ready to go out to the office, or the shop or wherever it is you go out, and by lunchtime, you have given in to their charms. You have wandered with them hand in hand, around your home, dreaming, or across the yard, chatting with the neighbor, or playing mindless games on a computer screen, forgetting errands and grocery.
And those days, the rascals that they are, wind themselves down, and when you turn around and look, they’re gone, having taken their seductive assess off to beguile another unwary sod. It is night, and time for bed.
As you turn in, you wonder where you went wrong, at what precise moment you lost control, and that perfect day, as full of possibilities as the past, came up to naught. You close your eyes. You’re full of naive intentions, having learned nothing, determined to succeed, impatient for the next morning.
But you never know when another of those days turns up and you lose yourself all over again, left with another day come and gone, and nothing to show for it.
Some days are like that, and that is all that there is to it.