“Tomorrow” Allows too Much Time to Pass

Limbo

It’s appalling how many days have gone by since I set aside my daily post “until tomorrow” thereby allowing 30 beads to fall off the necklace of my days and roll away. As fast as time travels these days, I can’t afford a thirty day drift of my life.

I feel disorganized, disarranged, disheveled, and displaced as I vacillate between one should and another. Actually I can’t complain because I snapped together some small jigsaw pieces that are to build a picture.

Furthermore, I am reading some writers, albeit new to me, that have been hanging around from last century that are offering the same message. It validates this year’s life experiment.

Sixty-five years after the fact, I made peace between myself and Karen Stortz about the incident of the keys to the cafeteria. For a second I felt myself in Karen’s shoes; it seemed I was feeling her feelings that day. It was a feeling that I have felt myself frequently, so holding it against her is the pot calling the kettle black. Why did I hold on to that insignificant little event for six decades?

In my imagination, I revised the events of those few moments by creating three scenarios in my mind. The most satisfactory was the one where everything happened exactly the same, except her angry words rolled off like water on a duck’s back. God I was insufferable at age 10.

P. S. I am really pleased with the meat balls that I made last night in the InstaPot. It was easy and took very little time when I substituted imagination for missing ingredients.