... Much as I missed the bus downtown from Saanichton again last weekend. And so, another hour was spent contemplating the scenic, scenic ranch homes and postcard-ready pick-up trucks of that area. The bucolic vistas were complemented by the steady drizzle of rain. I felt the urge to write an ode to all this natural beauty, but paper would have just torn in the damp and I couldn't remember how to rhyming schemes of sonnets went anyways.
A short history of all the other things I have forgotten and/or missed lately would include my lunch for today, my cellphone, to send money to take care of my cat, various deadlines, the movie I had already bought a ticket for when planning to have dinner with a friend, yoga tonight and to buy conditioner at the drugstore.
And all of this happened in spite of my studious creation and colour-coding of calendars in iCal. It's like the space-time continuum refuses to sense my good intentions and collapse upon itself. Which leaves me with three solutions: 1. Plan to do less, 2. Be better at doing more, or 3. Build my own time machine, so I can keep on going back and doing things over again until I get them right. Good thing I've made my monthly dues chez workshop, then, because I have a flux capacitor to weld.
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