Today was one of those days: one « thing » after another, the timing such that I had no « down » time, as we say, except during Métro rides from one « place » to another.
Awoke early, worked at the paper without stopping until I had to rush off to meet my son at the hospital, wait and wait and wait for paperwork, doctors, nurses, the go-ahead for him to leave, then dash off to an appointment, then slog home in the rain, dinner, another appointment, and now these words… Life never stops.
At times it would have been helpful for me to recall a line I read yesterday, a line from a writer talking about writing, quoting an editor who told him this when he was young: « It takes as long as it takes. »
And so « it » does. And so do all « things. » No more, no less.