I'd Rather Be A Borgia

Every morning, I tell myself that the night will end a different way.  Every night, I say the same thing about the morning.  But it doesn't happen.  Each morning is more like the last than the day before, each night a new misery.

That is not a literal truth, of course.  I liked, however, writing the lines.  But it is true, too.  At night, I think of all the things I will do in the morning before I go to work.  I will run in the darkness before the dawn just like they do in movies and in biographies of incredible people.  Then I will shower and have some coffee while I write.  I will work on the images that need postproduction that day.  Then I will go to work.

After work, I will go to the gym.  When I get home, I will spray the lawn for bugs and weeds.  Then, inside, before I cook my dinner, I will organize something--a closet, the books--and I will throw things away.  Then I will cook and return to the work on photos.  I will answer emails and pay my bills.  I will read for an hour, and then I will go to sleep.

Just writing it is therapy.  I mean, it is the impossible dream of a lunatic.  But that is how the truly special people live, no?  That is what is portrayed in the heroic profiles of those who make it.  Well. . . you must throw in the caring for dying family members and the volunteer relief work for the disadvantaged on several continents not your own.

That is the story of Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Warren Buffet, etc.

I've just decided that I don't want to be anything like them.

I'd rather be a Borgia.