Bookmark #640

A day is as important as it is irrelevant. I did not know much today, and I played most of the day by ear, but I did know I had to begin my piece with these words. A day is as important as it is irrelevant, and we must know our limits in swerving either way. On most days, this satisfies me: I complete all tasks I assign myself, and the little left undone is completed before I sleep, regardless of the time. Sometimes, like it is today, these words draw the shortest stick.

In the evening, I took a walk: a cunning theft on my part. I knew I had to take a cab and had an additional list of things to do in the city and many stops to make. Sly as I am, I stole a few minutes and a kilometre before I called a taxi and went on my way. When the cab arrived, I opened the door, and before I sat in it, I thought of the sentence. The day was as important as it was irrelevant. It was important in the sense that there were important things to celebrate. It was irrelevant because, eventually, I will forget most, barring two things from today. Most days are irrelevant that way, and most are equally important. We must recognise which part is the crucial bit. That is tricky, but with enough practice, spotting it is second nature.

What we remember, we remember of the people in our lives, of our time with them. What we forget is everything that seems urgent today. I will not remember the tasks I complete, but I will never forget going the extra mile, even if it is for myself, and especially if it is for someone else. So, that is what I will remember from today. I will remember my theft of finding time to walk and the time I spent with the family.

And the rest? What can I say about the rest? I forgot it as soon as the clock struck midnight.

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