It was another snowy day, but this time I still had to go to work. The flakes didn’t begin falling until we had already started picking up students, or, right in the middle of rush hour traffic. The sudden storm caused traffic blockages all over the city and we ran late to every stop and every school.
After the morning run, I still had plenty of work to do. It was my busiest day in a long time, though worse is on the way my boss tells me. So, right back out into the cold I went but I’m proud of myself for doing it without complaint and even a measure of enthusiasm. I took a moment to stop and marvel at the winter wonderland being built around me as the powdery snow fell.
The moment passed quickly. The cold air, the bare trees, the grey clouds, and my stiff bones got the better of me. I soon fell back into my usual winter sullenness. The sun did return in the afternoon but the damage was already done. I had let the day slip by without making any progress. I shirked productivity. I scrolled social media. I got lost in Twitter replies and Youtube holes. I let the hours go by and I have nothing to show.
The evening was no better. I tried my best but time slipped away and the chance is gone. Oh well, I read a little, wrote a little, and even cleaned up a little around the house. I put one foot in front of the other and I made it all the way to the end. I did the bare minimum—but so what? Fuck it. Tomorrow is Friday and I refuse to feel bad.
These entries are inspired by the journal posts of Thord D. Hedengren