Fourteen hours per day you sit digging through the deadlines, trying to prioritize in a pile that will not allow itself to be sorted. The hours are only so many, the life is only so long, you have been given this brief moment back in your City and you are squandering it to the yoke.
Winter is here, the holidays are here, your brief respite on morning walks turns your cheeks rosy and you regret not yet unearthing your winter clothes from their storage. Life arrives much quicker than you expect, always, always. But when he asks if you are free for coffee, you shuffle the piles, you clear a little space in the middle of the room, you think, Life arrives much quicker than you expect, whether you are there for it or not.
So you might as well be there for it, after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment