It's about a few minutes before the clock strikes another day in some places. I'm where I normally sit following about 8 hours of work. My computer desk remains my location of choice after I clock out, because I seldom call it quits for my other endeavors. I know rest is a part of battle but part of me gets restless relaxing in between the stops on my way to my goals. In fact, it's the eagerness to rest that unsettles me sometimes.
I know people with ambition, who are more content with the repetition of those wishes to people when the occasion arise. Say, they're at dinner or they stop by for a home visit. They're more than willing to recite last year's resolutions as this year's goal, which was a plan two years ago and an idea the year before that.
A bad system beats a good person every time, according to W. Edwards Deming. The wisdom holds true, but I can't say a thing about those too uncomfortable to track progress, organize daily, and rebuild those ineffective systems. They get snippy. They feel attacked. They ask, "why aren't you happy with my progress?"
I can't say. I simply know too much, I suppose. After all, Parkinson's Law tells me that you might've finished that project ages ago if only you didn't feel you have so much time to dawdle. Work, much like water, expands to fill the time available. In that regard, I could tidy up my ship when it comes to closing customer tickets.
But it goes the same for someone learning a new skill, losing weight, cleaning up their closet, discard old clothes, or building new furniture in their homes- set deadlines.
In any case, I have these spaces between days for my thoughts when I remember. Maybe, it's that I don't set a deadline to finish and post each day that sometimes (like the past weekend) I forget completely. After all, I do feel that the age of the writer hasn't ended, even though the reader has gone the way of the dodo.