Tuesday 27th March
When we were at school assembly all those years ago our Head-Mistress Miss Taylor, or Hilda as we used to call her, (though whether the H initial of her first name was actual Hilda or a more innocuous Helen or Harriet we knew not; Hilda she was known as and Hilda she became) loved to present us with a little epercu, a thought for the day if you like, some little homily used on the generations of girls who passed through her hands which she would say in a voice full of wisdom and a baleful stare above our heads as if to some God hovering in the ether. Well God never replied to Hilda, but sometimes in my head I did. One of her favourites which would be rolled out every few weeks was, “Here hath been dawning another blue day, Think, will thou let it slip useless away?” to which my considered and silently mouthed answer would be, “Mmmm probably.”
And how true that was; every day is another blue day, and yes, we mostly do let them slip if not completely useless away, then more often unfulfilled than a box-ticked achievement. As a young woman, conscientious to a fault I would often assess my day, and give myself a mark out of ten, writing it neatly after my usually sparse diary entry in a circle, more often than not my score was 5 or below, and only occasionally hit the heady heights of an 8 or a 9. Being taught at school that perfection was actually unachievable, but simply something to strive for I would on principle refuse to ever award myself a 10.
I stopped all of that nonsense years ago, including the diary entries, although of course my little blog which you are now reading has become a sort of substitute for a diary. Now I rarely think about whether I have let slip the day or have actually used it well. And the reason is that I have discovered that no matter how poorly one has wasted the day, how carelessly let it slip away, there is always the promise of tomorrow.