This quote, “Only the mediocre are always at their best,” has been on my mind the past few days. I’ve written, rewritten, and rewritten again a talk I’m giving in the not too distant future and I fluctuate between liking my efforts, hating my efforts, and really hating my efforts. It’s a good thing you can’t see me (or smell me) because I’m still in my walking gear which means I haven’t showered, washed my hair, or put on makeup. And I haven’t done any of that because when I stand up to get cleaned up I say, “Five more minutes! I’m just gonna take another stab at this thing for five more minutes!” and then I sit down, give it five, which becomes fifty-five, and before I know it, three hours have passed and I’m just as displeased with my work as I was when I convinced myself to “take another stab at this thing!” I know I should get up and walk away. I know I’m having a mediocre moment, a really long mediocre moment, and I need a break. And I need a shower. And maybe a glass of wine. A good glass of wine. Nothing mediocre will suffice. And I guess that’s my theme for this whole thing, isn’t it? ‘Til tomorrow, friends. You know where to find me. S.