December 31, 2010. Days like this come around so rarely. No work, no expectations during the day to go someplace or do something. No yard to mow. No grill to fire up. No family to invite over or get the house ready for. No wood to cut for winter. Nothing to put off if I want to rest; meaning no guilt by procrastination. A gift of a day.
Today has been an even bigger gift because, work has been a pain in the patooie, the keester, the rear, the assssstrophysics of the sciences. Over the past few days, I have been repeating the mantra “some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you” in an effort to maintain perspective and sanity. But by Thursday, the Bear was making New Year’s Resolutions to go to Weight Watchers and lose a few pounds of Roger.
Then this glorious day arrives. Up at the crack of 10:00, a York Peppermint Patty breakfast in my belly, I am looking forward to the promised high of 60 degrees. The snow erasure doing its work very quickly and without the usual nightly news video of surprised flooding victims living in the boggy bottom, the frog flatlands, or river ravine neighborhoods. “My House is flooded. We’ve lost everything. I was really surprised by how fast the water came up.” Surprised . . .? Really . . .? They should have paid a little bit of attention in synonym class.
This is a perfect day to sit down and write a blog. December 31; a day to reflect on the year past and to resolve for the future.
A week of pain in the butt work followed by this glorious day released “Moma said there’d be days like this” in my subconscious. The admonition provided by the Shirelles has been floating around in the arcade for years. The arcade is the label given by the lovely Beverly
It appears that the Shirelles’ momma wants to exhort me to persevere through the times when your dream boy turns into a nightmare and goes off to another leaving you alone and unloved. But that didn’t seem right to me. I have been putting my head down and getting through the bad days for a long time. I can handle that. I need no warning. I am all over that. Besides, the blog did not start with the bad days. It started with the good day. The day was a good one and my inner freud was calling out warning me.
I am back to the web to resume the quest for this warning in my head. And here it is.
Van Morrison is warning me that there will come a day when all of the parts of the puzzle all seem to fit. It is prophetic for me. I can get through the tough days. It’s the good days that I have to look out for. Be careful! Sure things are going well now but it doesn’t happen very often. You need to get ready for the bad times. That bear is going to eat you.
And that is the problem. By now I am at the end of a great day; a day with a long hot bath in the spa, a nap, one blog done and another started, supporting a couple of friends who are having 30 high school aged kids at their house for New Years Eve, and then moving on to friends that we haven’t seen for 12 years and picking up the conversation like we hadn’t seen them in a week, kissing my honey at mid-night, and rather than seeing it for the blessing it is, I am preparing for the rug to be pulled out from under me.
Here’s to seeing exhortations as encouragement to persevere. And warnings as reminders of the great things going on right now.
There’ll be days like this. Enjoy.
Take Care,
Roger
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