It has rained three out of four days now. This drippy, weepy weather matches my moods rather well, actually.
That’s what I do.
Why the funk, you ask? It’s the Mid-May slump. I have so much work to do, it’s almost impossible – and yet I’m parked here at my computer, staring out the window at Millennium Park, wishing for a miracle.
-A miracle that will turn back my calendar so that I can squeeze more fund raising in and maybe get a little closer to my goal, thereby allowing more women access to lower cost health care, and incidentally assuring my own job security.
-A miracle that will somehow reverse all the damage done to the psyches of America’s young girls in the name of Beauty.
-A miracle that will suddenly turn all of my negative thoughts about myself into positive ones, and spur me on to do good works, instead of wanting good looks.
But, Mr. Rogers taught me that wishing won’t make things come true:
You can make believe it happens,
Or pretend that something’s true.
You can wish or hope or contemplate
A thing you’d like to do.
But until you start to do it,
You will never see it through.
‘Cause the make-believe pretending
Just won’t do it for you
You’ve got to do it.
Every little bit…
Back to work.