Such a day of clocks and clutter, and hardly knowing where to begin, but looking forward to the end and that peace that must come to us all at the end of the day - even if it is disturbed.
Such a day of freedom and sandwiches.
Starting with the midnight clock, not mine but running out he says tick-tock, tick-tock.
A day of snowmen and angels and maybe elves (or at least something similar) and journeys, not quite wasted but not very successful either. A young man asking for the almost impossible and me (such a fool) agreeing to do it. A mother and daughter looking for the special and me (not a fool at all) helping them to dream it.
A word play, making myself and that other smile, an almost sale, an unhappy customer justified (not mine), and so much to do and so little time.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
My grandfather's clock stuck at twelve, so forgive this brief post tonight.
And that's alright.
I’ll be up till midnight...
Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock
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