It’s going to be a beautiful day.
For I can’t remember how long ago, the thought never came to my mind. But for today, just for today, I found myself thinking about it. I took my coffee to my favorite table, laid down my mobile phones and started writing… again.
It’s not as if I haven’t been writing these past weeks. I’ve just finished a lengthy report narrating everything that has happened in the past year and four months. I tried to be as objective as I possibly can, pointing out the good and bad side of how things were done regarding my project. This includes pointing my finger to myself; quite a difficult thing to do, but in the spirit of looking forward to better ways of doing things I did it. Of course, if I found the courage to blame myself I took other people to go down with me. Wicked. And satisfied.
I’ve ranted quite a few times about writing for other people and not for myself. That particular report, I must admit, was for both. Assessment is something I personally enjoy. It’s probably a force of habit from past jobs that require a thorough plan, and quite a hard habit to break. It’s also something that I believe is what others call good practice- a process that should be reiterative because it supposedly brings about better things, other than it makes you feel good.
In the next few days, I will still be writing reports. I have, so far, a couple due tomorrow. I’m not really sure if I can pull it, but tomorrow is not today so who knows? In between I read books. It can be a bit crazy when you read a couple of chapters from Coelho and a few short chapters from Greene. It’s like gulping down a B52 and bottle of beer. A dinner at Serendra and Twilight at Gateway didn’t escape me. That, plus a couple of dates more by Friday, should be enough to wear me down until weekend. Arghhh… I’m dying to visit the spa.
I’m posting this just for the sake of talking to myself, which is exactly what blogging is for me. In the past weeks I sort of managed to just talk to myself in the mirror each morning, ending up in wearing outfits I haven’t tried for awhile. Not bad. The mundane exercise has earned me praises, which makes me feel better about myself, which in turn make more productive feeling compelled to match beauty with brains.
It’s a quiet morning. It’s just me, my coffee, a family of cats, my Honey, the sound of my neighbor’s fountain- my thoughts. Alone.
For I can’t remember how long ago, the thought never came to my mind. But for today, just for today, I found myself thinking about it. I took my coffee to my favorite table, laid down my mobile phones and started writing… again.
It’s not as if I haven’t been writing these past weeks. I’ve just finished a lengthy report narrating everything that has happened in the past year and four months. I tried to be as objective as I possibly can, pointing out the good and bad side of how things were done regarding my project. This includes pointing my finger to myself; quite a difficult thing to do, but in the spirit of looking forward to better ways of doing things I did it. Of course, if I found the courage to blame myself I took other people to go down with me. Wicked. And satisfied.
I’ve ranted quite a few times about writing for other people and not for myself. That particular report, I must admit, was for both. Assessment is something I personally enjoy. It’s probably a force of habit from past jobs that require a thorough plan, and quite a hard habit to break. It’s also something that I believe is what others call good practice- a process that should be reiterative because it supposedly brings about better things, other than it makes you feel good.
In the next few days, I will still be writing reports. I have, so far, a couple due tomorrow. I’m not really sure if I can pull it, but tomorrow is not today so who knows? In between I read books. It can be a bit crazy when you read a couple of chapters from Coelho and a few short chapters from Greene. It’s like gulping down a B52 and bottle of beer. A dinner at Serendra and Twilight at Gateway didn’t escape me. That, plus a couple of dates more by Friday, should be enough to wear me down until weekend. Arghhh… I’m dying to visit the spa.
I’m posting this just for the sake of talking to myself, which is exactly what blogging is for me. In the past weeks I sort of managed to just talk to myself in the mirror each morning, ending up in wearing outfits I haven’t tried for awhile. Not bad. The mundane exercise has earned me praises, which makes me feel better about myself, which in turn make more productive feeling compelled to match beauty with brains.
It’s a quiet morning. It’s just me, my coffee, a family of cats, my Honey, the sound of my neighbor’s fountain- my thoughts. Alone.
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