Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Sleep is the order for tonight because, as far as I know, a hearty stretch of shuteye is the only remedy for an off day. Today was one of those. Off days are rare, thankfully, but when they strike, they strike hard, handily dispensing feelings of being scatterbrained, imprecise, and downright incompetent at times. To be clear, off days differ from bad days, which occur when external forces are completely arrayed against you. No, off days are nobody’s fault but your own.

Fortunately, fallout from today was contained. I’m pretty sure all my e-mails featured at least one typo, despite the fact that I proofread them, but there weren’t any mission-critical missives, you know? The worst is when you have to do some heavy Excel work on an off day, and an errant decimal point can have dire consequences. But there was none of that today–and I likely would’ve been unable to operate the desktop shortcut to Excel anyway, frankly.

The remedy for all this, again, is simply to rest: to hope for better days and remember better days past. Last Saturday comes to mind. A brilliant spring evening spent on a small hill, talk hushed, Blue Moons in hand, band in the distance, and all around, quiet chatter and dogs running around, under a sky illuminated with starlight and fireworks.