Drabble 72 – Duende

Drabble 72 – Duende

Sheet Music Texture by Ryan Schmitz.

I quite frequently bite off more than I can chew. That’s precisely what I did last week, which is why I didn’t post a drabble, but it all worked out in the end, as it often does.

Part of the reason that I do this is that any moment I don’t spend working feels like a moment I’m throwing away. Any moment that isn’t spent improving myself (whatever that means) is a moment I’m letting somebody else work harder and get farther.

Look, I know that’s BS. We all know that’s BS. That’s not how the world works–there aren’t a certain amount of successful positions just waiting to be filled. Overworking myself is not a guarantee of success, either, unless success is defined as me falling asleep at my computer.

But I’m in a different place than I was a year ago. Instead of deciding to do something ridiculous like work through the weekend as well, I finished up the last of my assignments Friday afternoon and took the rest of the day off. I took a bath, dyed my hair, and napped. I had a wonderful weekend with friends. And I came back to work on Monday not feeling tired and anxious, but positive and ready to start fresh.

Right now, part of success, for me, is knowing when to let things go. I can’t possibly complete everything I’d like to do in just 24 hours, and sometimes I’ll have to make choices I don’t particularly like. I have to know what to drop. I’m not always good at it, but I’m improving.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

(n.) From Spanish due du casa for ‘owner of the house’)

Passion and inspiration derived from art; a spirit, elf, sprite, or similar.

The first time Belinda hears the strains of music float in from next door, she weeps.

These are not the small, concealed tears she’s used to; these are fat, round droplets that leave tracks down her cheeks.

Her husband says he isn’t interested. She’s not surprised, but she swears she sees him sniffling the next morning as he reads the newspaper, the song drifting in on a breeze.

Her friend listens and she cries. She catches the plumber wiping a tear away after fixing a leaky pipe. Belinda calls electricians, maids, escorts, just to be sure they feel it too.

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