“I never see what has been done; I only see what remains to be done”.
That’s what Buddha said. He said a lot of wise things but I’m not putting that one at the top of my list. I’m quite happy to see what has been done. Let’s rephrase that. I’m sometimes astonished at what has been done (an not necessarily in a good way).
The daily prompt asks what is our favourite daily ritual. I reckon anybody who says anything other than “going to bed” is having a laugh. Can there possibly be anything more delightful than climbing into bed after a long day of doing stuff (and seeing what has been done)?
I love my bed. I climb in and lay back and review the day. If I followed the example of Buddha and thought about what was to be done tomorrow then I’d still be awake when it is time to get up (although regular visitors may remember this) and that would never do. The problem is that during my slumbery (I know, it’s not a word yet. It will be one day) recollections I remember the bad bits rather than the good bits. I never close my eyes and think “I did a bloody good job there”, it’s more a case of “Oh lordy, why on earth did I say that?”. It is ridiculous. It is the mental equivalent of recording a really good film on TV and then fast forwarding through everything except the adverts.
I sometimes read. Reading relaxes the troubled soul (I bet Mark Twain or someone similar has a great quote along those lines if only I could expend enough energy to go and look in my Oxford book of famous quotations). I like a book. I did try reading on my remarkable tablet thingy but it just doesn’t work for me. With a book I can gradually nod off and let the literature tumble to the floor. The tablet is certainly robust enough to cope with cascading off the bed but it tends to fall instead onto my chest. It has this thing whereby it watches your eyes to see if you are looking at it and it senses movement as well. A very clever idea but what actually happens is I wake up, roll over and the tablet thinks we are ready to go another few chapters so it wakes up as well. As it has frequently managed to work its way under some part of the bedding (or on one unfortunate occasion the cat) there suddenly appears a ghostly glow and I have to seek it out and turn it off. It was quite funny when it lit up the cat though. You haven’t lived until you have seen an illuminated cat anus.
If a book isn’t to hand then a magazine will do. The Sunday papers come with enough stock to keep me in late evening reading for most of the week. There’s a problem with this as well though. I will read part way through an interesting article on something like how Kim Kardashian is liberating children caught up in war torn Syria and doze off. When I decide to return to the piece later on the magazine has gone. Honestly, you would imagine that anything lying on my side of the bed was my property until returned to the proper place but it seems that this isn’t the case and half-read papers are fair game to be removed somewhere else.
Never mind though. I love going to bed. It is absolutely the best part of day. Curiously, the second best part of the day is getting up in the morning. If I could only learn to love the bits in between then I would be a very happy man.