Days like this make it hard to write.
I was moving between one thing and another from the moment I got up. You've had those days; we all have. Today, it started with a doctor's appointment. I arrived at 8:27am, where I then learned I was not a few minutes early but actually many minutes late. Turns out, the appointment was at 8:20am, not 8:30am, which I'd have known if I'd opened the email reminder last night instead of just thinking "doctors at 8:30, got it." So things were off to a good start.
After that, I dove into a couple hours of deep work on a web project before switching gears to take a couple calls. I even managed to squeeze in a quick walk around the block with Isobel before jumping into a different web project.
But then I blinked and it was dark out.
And that makes days like this one hard to mine for storyworthy moments. But if I take a second to think about it, I liked what Nick Offerman had said about getting lost in his woodworking on the podcast episode I listened to in the car. And, when I'd stopped for coffee, the mom and toddler shuffling back and forth in front of the book shelf had made me smile. And telling Isobel she was right—that it was very cold and that I'd worn the wrong jacket—had made for a very welcomed chuckle. If I zoom out far enough, I can appreciate how good it felt to ship those web project updates today, too.
Days like this make it hard to write because they force me into a pattern of looking ahead. But writing this column is a gratitude practice more than anything; and that means pausing long enough to sit back, smoke the proverbial cigarette, and look around.
When's the last time you had a go-go-go kind of day? Can you remember any of the things that happened around you while you were go-go-going?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.