January 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

Day 22.

Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow I won’t eat as much sweets. Tomorrow I will maybe do sit-ups. Tomorrow I will take at least one step towards my dreams. Tomorrow I will cook something, make something, create something. Tomorrow I will be more aware of inspiration. Tomorrow I will remind the people I love just how great they are. Tomorrow I will get more fresh air; I will take deep breaths. Tomorrow I will not be crabby or lose my patience as easily. Tomorrow I will move forward. Tomorrow will be the greatest day yet.

But it is still today, and as my eyelids start to get heavy I count the minutes that I have left. My patience wanes as I get sleepy. Frustration sets in as I long for more time to be creative. I listen to the same song on repeat waiting for either a soothing affect or a second wind of inspiration. I count my blessings instead of sheep, stopping when I remember that I still have yet to brush my teeth and pull on my pajamas.

This is the time of night when tired angst meets with hopeful dreams. It is that time of night when the regrets of today birth goals for tomorrow. As I lie sleepily ideas are awakened, the dawn of a new day presenting a blank slate. Like New Years Eve I find myself promising to be better tomorrow, to do things right, to chase after every inspiration, throwing caution to the wind. I silently celebrate the end of today feeling blessed and full while believing all hope that tomorrow I will get closer to where I want to be.

After I brush my teeth I will crawl into bed. I will pull the down comforter up to my ears just like I do every night. I will tuck away my list of goals and ideas and promises, and I will drift away into a lovely dreamland. I will, for a short time, escape to a place where nothing matters. I will not care about today’s regrets – the amount of cake I ate or the lack of inspiration I felt. I will not think about tomorrow’s yoga poses or big city dreams. I will just be – the person that made it through today, looks forward to tomorrow, and always pulls her covers up to her ears.


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You are currently reading Twenty-Two at Lost In the Separation.


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