twodays.
so. there was that and i missed two days in a row.
and for those two days in a row, every night before i lay my head down to sleep, i didn’t pray my soul to keep, but i did lament the fact that i had not, did not write anything for the day. the thought to write was present, but the what to write was not. and i could say that i’ll just tack on two days to the tail of the 28, but that’s just somewhat stupid, because either i’m going to write or i’m not, and 28 days isn’t really going to make a difference to that becoming true, or not becoming true. so. there was that.
and now, as per usual, it’s somewhere near quarter past 2200 and the time creeps closer to when i begrudgingly, yet necessarily (and slowly) drag my sorry self up the stairs to climb into bed, but this weekend seems, in so many ways, completely misapplied. time was spent with those near and dear, but the larger quantity of it was spent stuck, aggravatingly like wet cement, in a cramped car in useless traffic. and so, the quality of it was less than stellar. and this annoys me to no end. i don’t ask for much, but weekends have steeped in them something more far-reaching than just having two days off. i need them more now than i ever did when i woke up bleary-eyed and confused from the events of the night before. now, i need them because i wake-up bleary-eyed and confused from the weeks prior that i’m trying to catch up with, even though i know that train is moving at a far quicker clip than i’ll ever be able to keep pace with… and i watch it go, and oh – shit – it’s 2230 and… sigh. goodnight.
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