(iPhone photo #41 in my 2012 365+1 project)
All my good intentions are dead as last year’s branches of my crepe myrtle tree today. I blame the rain. I blame the blisters on my feet. I blame a potassium deficiency from not eating enough potato chips. I blame my hunter-gatherer ancestors from whom I probably inherited insomnia and crooked toes that do not fit properly into shoes. I blame fatigue and self-doubt and the Great American Dream of a worry-free weekend.
“What’s a weekend?” you say, in your best Maggie Smith impression. I’m not sure I quite know, but I am endeavoring to start one today. Rest in peace, failures of the week left behind. Long may you sleep.
