An
optimist is the dog who hangs near the stove when I'm cooking, the kid who
flaps his mouth in my class, or maybe it's the squirrel that camps out in our
attic. All these seem to be optimistic moves––hopefulness and
confidence about the future or successful outcome of something; however, I am
the truest optimist of all.
I believed I could scratch a few notes to satisfy
my buzzing mind before bed last night and then write a great post after work and Chess Club. Plus my son came in town tonight. The post ain't gonna happen because I'M TIRED.
The conclusion: I'll let these funny thoughts simmer awhile before sending them to fruition. Night. Night.
5 comments:
And by fruition you mean forgotten, right? Oh, that's just me? Fine. Carry on.
This is me to. Some days I come home and have high hopes of getting a lot done. It to just doesn't happen.
Hurrah for your son being in town. :)
We have an optimistic squirrel that keeps building nests and burying nuts in my car. I will find a way to deter that brat of a rodent (repeating ten times to myself).
It seems the more I think I am going to get, the less it actually happens. I am optimistic that nothing is ever going to get caught up.
Well you did write a post!
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