Three-quarters of a year have gone by since I became an only child. I'm not sure how I made it this far. There certainly is something to be said about putting one foot in front of the other. Not that I am getting very far, mind you, but I am moving. On those days when I feel like curling up in a ball and sobbing the day away, and they are there more than I would like to acknowledge, I just keep going.
In the past 10 months I have screwed up a gazillion times - in what I have done and what I have failed to do. Take, for instance, the two Friends of the Library meetings I, as President, canceled, both on short notice. One I was out of town for and totally forgot about until 12 hours before the meeting. The other was to take place at the same time as a very important work meeting and I did not realize that until - you guessed it - hours prior to the meeting. This week's meeting I made by the skin of my teeth. I cruised into Carbondale a good five minutes before the meeting after making a five hour drive from Monmouth. Luckily, the Holt House meeting closed on time and I did not have to break speed records to get home.
That I have coordinated the three yearly health conferences in these dismal times is purely a reflection of the great board of directors I deal with on a daily basis.
And my friends have been very understanding. Frankly I have been lousy friend - giving rainchecks, letting correspondence fall through the cracks, to the point that even I wouldn't put up with it.
I haven't been the best homemaker either. My trips to the grocery are more hunt and peck adventures than a well planned attack on Krogers. I usually spend more time deciding on what cut flowers to buy this week than what should we have for dinner the rest of the week. Making a list seems like too much of an effort.
But this is how life goes. "We disappoint, we leave a mess, we die, but we don't." (Into the Woods) comes to mind. And so we go, putting one foot in front of the other, hoping we make progress in the game of life.
