'Why did you do this to me sun?'
Me and that sun are going to be having words if it carries on the way it has been. Saturday, and there it was, all shiny and nice, luring me away from the computer KNOWING FULL WELL I HAD A 2000 WORD LIMIT TO MEET. So I shook my head at the orange globe, 'No, sun, I will not fall pray to your tricks. Let me be, I will join you tomorrow.'
And then I sat in my room forcing myself to do work, thinking 'Oh well, tomorrow I can get the paper and sit on the beach for a while in the sun.'
But no, the sun doesn't like that. I woke up on Sunday and the sky was grey with cloud, the sun hiding behind and only peeking out every so often like the tease it is. Still, I thought if I got myself together and went down to the beach, it might make an appearance in its flirty way. So off I went, blanket to lie on and all. And it came out for a while but the wind was more noticeable, blowing the paper around and getting on my nerves. I shook my fist at the sun. 'Why did you do this to me sun?' I asked.
I'm still waiting for a reply. But I've learnt to take advantage of the good weather while I can. It may not last.
xx
posted by Liam @ 12:30 PM
1 Comments:
Ah Carpe Diem Liam, Carpe Diem - though I am not sure what a dead fish has to do with making the most of any given moment.
But here are some nice quotes that make you realise that it IS the right thing to go hang out in the sunshine.
'Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite. Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting. ~Dr. Seuss
Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think. ~Chinese Proverb
There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want. ~Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
Now is the time to get drunk! To stop being the martyred slaves of time, to get absolutely drunk - on wine, poetry, or on virtue, as you please. ~Charles Baudelaire, "Enivrez-vous," Paris Spleen, 1869
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