Poem Of The Day #51
Thursday is always disappointing-- close to weekend, but not yet there. Friday's a delight after days of tear and wear but Thursday is just a nuisance I woke up at 6AM, still drowsy, very groggy, but couldn't go back to sleep. The chatting birds were gone; the temperature plunged to 20 degree; February's brief spring was over. Horrid morning news one after another: Russian invasion of Ukraine--Why? How Come? Global warming--more storms are arriving. Inflation is out of control--price hikes everywhere. There were phone calls to return, orders to place, review, and economize. When the afternoon was almost over, I felt that I had done nothing-- all trivial matters fill up the void. I hate when time flies, but I want this Thursday to be over. Am I contradicting myself?