Sticking the Landing

I wrote, recently, about how I don’t do drafts, and I put a lot of pressure on myself to stick the landing. And there is historical evidence to support this idea. But as with so many things, I find that I have overstated this case and been too slow to recognize my own growth and development in this area. I’ve been confronted in the past couple of days with evidence that I do make plans. I don’t always write them down, but I generally make at least a mental plan that I work from. I’m as successful in sticking the landing as I am because I do think ahead.

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Fill Up the Cup

Friday night, a friend came down and we went to the art museum to see an exhibit of Rembrandt’s etchings and prints. Our taste in art is not the same— I really wanted to see this Rembrandt exhibit, I’m taking her to see an exhibit of Dior designs for her birthday. She cares less about Rembrandt and my fondness for modern art than I do, I care less for fashion, especially haute couture, than she does.

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In My Head. ? !

Yesterday was my doctor’s appointment. I’ve been working on myself— I don’t typically go to the doctor above a certain weight, because I’m an A student, and I know that certain weights are not A student material. I don’t like a lecture, I don’t want bad test results, even if they’re health-related tests. I want my gold star and a get out of the doctor free card for another year. I feel the same way about the dentist, and the mechanic and almost any other professional provider. If there’s something wrong, I want it to be something I couldn’t reasonably do anything to prevent. And weight/lifestyle/genetic predispositions coming home to roost seem like they’re things I should be preventing.

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