More often than not, I find myself mentally writing, editing and re-formatting a post in my head and then it does not make it to keystroke reality. Does that mean it should not be said? Am I chicken to put it out there for public eyes and potential scorn? Dunno.
This has been one hell of a year. Blunt and to the point. It has been a year that, frankly, I am ready to see end.
A nursery poem has popped into my head frequently over the last several months. Do you remember hearing this as a child?
Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
I am a Thursday's child. Right now, I am wondering where I am going and how far to take things.
No, nothing is wrong. Just working out where to go with this and doing a little bloggy housework.