Well, I don’t have much to say today, but I’m here. It’s wild that this week is Frankie’s first Thanksgiving, and then next weekend she will be a year old. The days are long, but the years are short, indeed. Mundane: I’m going to do a beef roast, squash casserole, roasted Brussels sprouts, and cornbread dressing for Thanksgiving. And some custard pie… the saga of refining our custard pie technique continues.
Something I think about a lot is those “inflection points” (for lack of a better word) upon which something ceases to be fun or exciting. For example — you have an exciting project you’re working on, not necessarily in secret, but you haven’t told anyone about it. Then, you tell someone about it, and it loses its luster. Or, the extra thing at work that’s fun until it becomes something you HAVE to do; now it’s a job, and it ceases to be fun.
I’m not sure how many people are affected by this, but I feel it often. So much so that I sometimes avoid eg telling people about books I’m reading or things I’m working on, for fear of losing the fire.