Gold Cords

Yesterday I finished something that has taken three years to complete. Or twenty, depending on how you look at it. But I was oddly unmoved by it. I'm already looking to the next goal, letting this one blow by with just the briefest of nods at my own accomplishment.

I've always been that way. I don't know if it's a byproduct of procrastination (would I be prouder had I not put it off so long?) or if it is just that I need to always be reaching for some THING.

I wonder how much this infects the rest of my life. I'm content with my work, my status, my choice in not having children. And I've never settled (for long, anyway) for the wrong man. Maybe it's that much of this is inconsequential to my self-regard, which, of course, is tied almost exclusively to what I can learn, what I should know.

But, no matter what is next, yesterday was still a good day. I will take the moment to point and say 'yes, that is done, and I am proud, and I will not lessen it.'

*******
Completely unrelated note: please don't watch or support horse-racing. Yesterday marked two years in a row in which a vibrant, beautiful, sleek, healthy, and likely abused animal suffered in the name of a silly tradition. Hours spent drinking and wearing big hats can be had without a race that is over in two minutes. End rant.