I feel like today is like my hair. Mop-head, some straight hair, some frizzy hair, some curly hair, hanging in my face, falling in my eyes. "Apparently someone's lost their brush." But mostly I didn't care enough to style it. Too much to do. Today is like my hair - unrepeatable, the result of negligence, deference to something more important.
Sarah: So what did you do today?
Me: I washed and sorted all our nylons. See?
Sarah: Uh-huh. So what else did you do today.
Me: I picked up the kitchen and dining room. Although I guess you can't really tell.
Sarah: Yeah. So what else did you do today?
Me: I worked on my speech.
Sarah: You mean that Word document that's completely blank?
Me: So what did you do today?
You see, today is like a Death Cab for Cutie song. The melody of today is decidedly upbeat, comfortable, ideal. The lyrics of today are confusing, dark, and melancholy. And yet, it's not as sad when you mix the two together. The perfect line between solid ground and insubstantial air. Not euphoria. Not despair. Not even contentment or discontentment. Something different.