Mid-week

I've had a hell of a day. There, I said it. I don't admit it often enough to myself or out loud. It has been a tough, hard, discouraging day and I don't really know how I made it through it.

But here I am, back on my chair/stool/table/thing in front of the computer, out the other end in one piece and facing down another 24 hours.

Yup, some days are harder than others to get through. You wonder how you're going to keep head above water, deal with the demands and expectations from every angle, cover your bases (and your costs), and make it home on the fuel in the tank. It's days where you'd rather ask the begger for money than have him request a loaf of bread (I told one to go ask Zuma earlier this week and was sworn at colourfully). It's days where you simply haven't had time to breathe, to think, to gather your strength before the next onslaught - and you know it isn't over yet. Still a good few hours of slog to go, of giving whatever's left to give.

It's been a hard day. But I'm still alive, still here, still breathing - I haven't fallen off a mountain, crashed either of the two vehicles, been beheaded by the bank pitbulls, burst randomly into tears, or run away. Heaven knows the latter thought was mighty appealing once or twice. But I'm here, taking a deep breath and facing up to the next challenge.

And that's gotta count for something.