Mornings tend to arrive as they do. All willowy and mistlike, sneaking up on the unsuspecting masses like some unwanted shadowy reality check to bring us all down a peg or two. The false sense of security we came to know and love, gone in the transition from dark to light. The day arrives promptly and brings along an entourage of reality, bills, work, and obligations. None of these things were ever in the songs we learned at school. “The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the bus drivers soul is sucked dry, soul is sucked dry, soul is sucked dry, all through the town”. That old ditty. You know the one.
A part of me longs for the romantic escape from the mundane, the mediocrity, the grey, and the bleak. Although, the optimist in me sees that in amongst these grubby shades lie the seeds of hope and the semblance of something pure, just waiting to be built into something bigger and better. Thank god I have some optimism left in the tank.
Mondays tend to be rife with pessimism. Tuesday can sometimes glimmer a squint of hope, Wednesdays are a day for getting it done, Thursday normally is a smooth jaunt through a well-lit tunnel and Fridays are home free. Then there’s the weekend, and do you know what, they are usually a bit of a letdown. Like a movie that had a great trailer but in the end, was a disjointed affair with poor narration and flawed storytelling. such is my life too. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful family and I love them dearly, because without them it would be a shocking conclusion to a well-loved tale. Boredom and ineptitude. In modern terms, Xbox and bad pizza, Xbox and bad feckin pizza Ah well.