Good bad or
indifferent, there are always those who seek out wiggle room in all they
attempt to accomplish in life, or in any pursuits of the good life, or even a
slightly better life than fate has bestowed upon them.
Here are
some personal definitions I’ve developed along my way.
·
I prefer
jeans to fit snuggly, no wiggle room.
·
As a child
I felt comfort in the way my Dad held my hand while we crossed a street
together, certainly no wiggle room.
·
People who
set an appointment saying they’ll be there at a time they add an “ish” to – as
in sevenish or eightish. If you’re running a company or if you’re in a
management position never put an “isher” in charge of anything; you’ll go
broke.
·
Stay away
from those folks who use the words “typically” or “assumed.” The only way the
word assume is typically a good choice or has an acceptable usage is in the
sentence, “Typically, those who assume anything are more often than not
incorrect in their assumptions.”
·
Tomorrow will
do. The person who delivers that assumption is absolutely wrong to begin with.
What tomorrow brings is secret. There is no wiggle room. If you can do it
today, do it today.
“I’ll get to it tomorrow chief,” he said assuredly. My God, he
thought, it will only take me a few hours; that’s plenty of wiggle room. He
never showed up for work the next day. It seems a hurricane hit his town. The
incident became part of the man’s history, permanently, without wiggle room.
“This, A
Short Biographical Teaching”
There was
this lady named Lizzy
Lizzy,
always late, always in a tizzy
Contemplation
was her thing, whether slow or busy.
Each and
every item, which came her way
Always
destined for extensive decision-making,
God give me
an hour or two extra she’d pray
Rarely did
it happen that way.
The
simplest was placed on her list of things to do.
But her
list got longer,
There was
always something new.
Then notes.
Then notes
about the notes,
About the
notes.
And more
notes,
You guessed
it,
About all
those notes!
But all was
never to be lost,
Lizzy hired
more help.
All the old
sacraments
Would
certainly be tossed.
This new
helper, however
Did come
with a problem,
She was an
“isher”
And a
tomorrow seeker.
Poor Lizzy,
so distraught
The extra
help for naught.
Her
situation was weaker
Her helper
it turned out,
Also a seeker.
Then
entering
Neat as a
pin, his looks and sound
Shear
bravado when this guy was around.
He did all
he could today,
Nothing
left for tomorrow.
No piles of
stuff ever to be found.
Smiling,
and dancing, he forever clowned.
Daring
deeds along with those of minor account
Never left
undone,
No minute
amount would mount.
One goal
only, a chosen populous to astound.
These, the
sounds that reverberate within my skull
As I
prepare to exude my latest creative vibe.
I just got
the idea I’ve been searching for
All these
many years.
When others
waste valuable time,
Mine are
meaningful and yes, sublime.
Unlike
Lizzy
Wondering,
Mind
wandering
Searching
for an insightful ending.
Then
shouting out:
Oh manure,
I’ve forgotten what I was thinking about
When I
began my explanation of how I think
About
things beginning or ending.
Where are
my notes?
I should
have made more notes.
All those
historical quotes.
If only I
was more like her.
If only I
made some notes.
They sat
there together,
Beneath the
mounds of paper.
He had
brought her a gift,
A brand new
shredder,
This would
surely elate her.
Not so was
the case,
Insinuation
written on his face,
Try making
some notes
Maybe it
would fill your brain’s empty space.
You may have
surmised
A
compromise was devised.
She kept
her notes in a new room,
Just hers
alone,
Free from
scorn, no worry about time
While he,
on the other hand
Used her
notes,
Somehow
making them rhyme.
They stood
watching a sunset,
Sipping and
celebrating their tidings divine.
Her notes
became his stories.
They filled
both their spaces
Never again
rushing to save time.
Without
poetizing what was hers,
He
scrambled within.
If we marry,
he quipped
What’s hers
will become mine.
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