Tomorrow

Oh, I'm always completely optimistic about tomorrow – apart from those days when something Very Important is set down for Tomorrow and I'm nervous about it. Still, even then you know that tomorrow is just another day, and there will be another one after the scary one, right?

Never really arrives, does it? Tomorrow.

Tomorrow – the day after today.

It's coming. Round the bend. Can you feel it?

It might love you, if you let it. it might be a threat. Either way, you can't know what it is, though like a weather forcaster you might make an educated guess.

Sixty percent chance of work crisis, two percent chance of falling in love, thirty-three percent chance of sex. fifty percent likely that the cat will throw up on your paperwork. eight percent chance of a miracle occurring.

Perhaps it'll rain, maybe you'll take a walk and get a sandwich. How likely is it that you'll decide tomorrow that your yesterday which right now is today isn't good enough for you? half a percent? ninety percent? Does it matter that your mother might call?

Hang on. It only gets better from here.

Tomorrow it's easter and we'll be looking for eggs in the garden. Painted eggs. Something totally irrelevant and absurd of course, but nevertheless...
Tomorrow mostly means expectations for some action of thought that is stimulating and surprising. No idea what the surprise will be tomorrow. Todays surpriste? The cosiness of my hometown, after a vacation. Everyone wolaking around, sipping coffee at outsite bars on a canal.

Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform, and mortal men lay hold on heaven.

(Young)

I'm still waiting for the tomorrow that never comes.

Today is the tomorrow you were worrying about yesterday.