Life Imitates Art

The view on our morning walk turned out to be prophetic.

Daisy and I were up and out the door in time to catch the sunrise, but with dense fog, you’d never know the sun had come up at all. I felt like we were walking in one of the Sherlock Holmes or Agatha Christie books I love so much.

As long as the weather permits, we take a walk first thing every morning. While out walking, usually after the halfway point when we’re making our return trip, I pull out my phone and start going over my TO DO list. Just to clear up the picture of the day ahead.

When we get home, I usually spend the first hour or two catching up on all e-mail, doing some reading on Medium and elsewhere and just sort of planning out the day in a little more detail. Depending on what time we walk, I like to be done with all of that by 9 and then can turn my attention to actually getting work done.

Today, though, I can’t seem to get anything going. I’m stuck in a fog as thick as the stuff Daisy and I walked through. Just like the bridge in the photo above, I can see the vague outline of what needs to be done, but I don’t seem to be getting any closer. Which, now that I think of it, is nothing like that bridge since the bridge was actually not moving and it did get clearer as I walked closer.

See what I mean? Even my metaphors are a disaster today.

I just decided that I’m going to give myself a little time to sit and write this out and then I’m going to hit the reset button on the day and see if we can’t get this fog to lift.

Wish me luck.

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