Friday afternoons

[Just_Me]

This is just idle musing for Friday. Life is like one long series of chapters written very slowly. You really can't even remember the first couple chapters. The childhood chapter is just a sequence of pleasant memories thrown together without any intervening parts, like what happened on the 5th day of 3rd grade (unless you have a great memory). It's like watching the highlight film from a football game-just the good or at least exciting stuff.

Then there is the chapter of my first marriage, which is also just disjointed fragments and a vague sense that "things just weren't right" and "I'm glad I'm not still in that marriage".

Then there is the most recently read chapters, the death of a loved one and the ending of yet another marriage. Those chapters are more fresh and the pain more acute, but they still feel now almost like something I read, a chapter that made me cry, as the details begin to fade.

Now on to the current chapter. The beauty of this book is, while proof-reading, re-writing, or corrections aren't possible-the details of those chapters are set in stone-the current and future chapters are entirely in my control. I can decide the content of this chapter and all subsequent ones. The goal here is too write something that I'm proud of when I look back on these chapters.