I didn’t write yesterday.
That was very, very, bad. Granted, the fault was not my own, since work finished late and I had to dash home and then out again within minutes because of a meeting I had planned with Sir B. F. and yet it still should not have happened.
Days that escape our control are hard. I think this is true for many people – we have our days planned a certain way, whether it is the same routine every day or whether we have a schedule we adhere to on certain days. When something gets in the way and changes things, it’s frustrating, it’s hard. We feel the control of our day wrenched cruelly out of our control, and we struggle to adapt ourselves to it.
The real strength is in adapting, and this is something I admire in more spontaneous people – the lack of worry when things don’t go as planned, the ability to drop everything and do something on a whim. Since becoming “an adult” who works and has “important things to do” I feel that I’ve become way too responsible for my own good.
Whenever I feel like this, I can’t help thinking of the Tori Amos song “Ribbons Undone” – and most specifically this line: “From school she comes home and cries ‘I don’t want to grow up, Mom. At least not tonight.'”