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I've found that every day, I live for tomorrow.

I plan for tomorrow. I work for tomorrow. I hope for, wish for, expect for tomorrow.

Every day, most of us live for tomorrow.

There's nothing wrong with that, I believe. It doesn't hurt to live for tomorrow, to have it set, to make sure that you get by to live today for the next.

But it struck me today as so redundantly repetitive, because every tomorrow that I have will always be yet at least one more day from being substantiated, fulfilled as its own.


The Southern California heat has begun to die down, slightly.
I'm glad.