What Does Your End-Of-The-Day Feel Like?
The clock says the day is ending. My mind says "Whoa there! Not yet!"
The body says "Enough!" The mind is still racing with the clock!
Here it is. If I had a grandfather clock (and I don't) it would be chiming 11 times. The darkness would be ample proof that it is not time for lunch, although I sometimes crave a snack at this time of the night.
I've had my shower and performed my "ready, set, go to bed" preparations, but the mind is saying "Whoa there! Not yet."
While the spirit is willing, the body is saying "Enough already!"
Sometimes it's a debate. Sometimes it's a knock down struggle which the body wins, though more battered and bruised. In the end, the mind acquiesces, and kicks in its memory chip for assaulting my semi-consciousness with the first glance at the morning-facing window.
I approach sleep with the far off ideal of wishing that once, just once I could self-talk a "Mission Accomplished." But when I try that one occasionally, the mind flashes an image of G. W. Bush on the deck of that carrier. The thought dies instantly, but the wish prevails.
I settle for "Call it a day."
I wish I could call it something else, because that thought is enough to change my remark instantly to "What a day!"
"I'll get the light, Honey."
© 2012 Demas W. Jasper All rights reserved.