"What did you do today?"
It's the most anxious moment of my day. My mother sits behind the family computer, eying me with half-interest. It's the part of the day when I must make an account of my idleness. Another uneventful day. I usually respond with something like, "I did all the dishes. And I read." But today, when my mother asked me that dreaded question, I drew an unexpected blank.
"I can't remember," I told her. "It seems like the whole day just evaporated."
It did seem that way.
Today I read a little. I practiced the piano a little. And I...I...
I lost a day.
And so I approach the second most anxious moment of the day--writing time--with a tinge of regret.
No comments:
Post a Comment