Two posts. That’s all it took. Two posts – one of them only really there for the purpose of testing linking images from flickr – before I felt the need to rip it all down and start again. To tear the pages out and save the notebook for another day.
By now, I’m think you’re probably starting to understanding why I chose the title I did.
Today was not a good day. In fact, you could probably stretch that out to the week. For reasons I won’t go into here, what started with good intentions ended with a good kilometre stretch of nicely paved road to you-know-where.
Plans of daily Wii-fitting and nightly salads have quickly turned to a desperate need to be as horizontal on my couch as possible, for as long as possible. While at work, at around eleven a.m. today, the thought of curling up in front of the T.V. entered my head, and then, would not leave. Needless to say, the rest of the day was less than productive.
As a kid – and until rather embarrassingly late in life – I was under the impression that cancer made your hair fall out. I consider myself very fortunate when I say I’d not ever had any friends or family members who ever had cancer, so my only exposure to the disease was when I saw it on television. And since the television I watched was never all that high-brow or true-to-life, stories that revolved around a character being diagnosed usually went something like:
Doctor: “You have cancer.”
Cut to: Character in hospital wearing a scarf or hat, signifying their hair had fallen out.
So, in my brain (and I was going to say ‘child like’ brain, but that would suggest it’s somehow different to how it is now), I put one and one together and got “cancer makes your hair fall out”. I don’t really know where I was going with that. To be honest, it’s a far less embarrassing than admitting I thought Barkley for Sesame Street was a real dog till I was around ten.
…of false starts: these things we start – or that perhaps start us – that refuse to be finished. The unexpected end to best laid plans. The result of good intentions.
… and frustrations: the feelings we find on the unfinished road, when all we can see is all that could’ve been. The disappointment. The anger.
And where to from here? I do not know. Perseverence, I guess. Perhaps more road anaolgies?