1:45 am
every day, some time in the afternoon, i have an idea for a blog post that i want to write about later that evening
every day, at 1am, i remember the blog post i was going to write today, and i lament that it's too late, because it's bed time
i wanted to write about the cemetery, and what it meant to me; but the next day the emotions weren't as fresh, and i couldn't quite remember the wording of the sticker on one of the headstones that burned in my mind so vividly as we walked home in the darkening sunset
i wanted to write about mice, and how much i miss the two cats that used to be part of this household, and how i love them all even if they break things sometimes (though i had much more tolerance for the cats peeing everywhere than i will extend to any resident mice), but then it was time to go climbing, and someone else did that post better than i could have anyway
i wanted to write about chemical bonds, and the strain in molecular structure that you can relieve by cutting some of them, but by the time i got the framing right it felt like a much more depressing metaphor than it was really intended
today i was going to write about sports, but it's 1:54am and it's too late for that
it's too late to write anything today
again
you said it was too late and she said she didn't think it was. and she told you that sometimes you just have to try even if you think it is too late, lest you later learn that it wasn't too late but now definitely is. she said it was, at the very least, better to know and be disappointed now than to wonder for an unknown length of time.
it's probably too late for sports. that one might have to wait. but maybe it's not too late to give something else a go. maybe it's not too late to write something.