So here we are: the night before last, the eve of the end, the next-to-last hurrah, the penultimate day. For many a year, I have savoured opportunities to use this word correctly. It means next to last, but many folk like to use it to try to make ultimate higher and better. It’s like being extra unique, or giving 110%, or more pregnant. Penultimate: a great word with extremely limited usage.
Other of my favourite words in this category include postprandial, spelunking, and haberdash. There are words that should be allowed to shine in our world of lowest common denominator nomenclature. Decent vocabulary should not be considered a shibboleth for superciliousness. Alas. All pettifoggery aside, it remains the penultimate day of 5Down.
And we’re all sick and bloody tired of finding stuff to turf. We are done.
I had lined myself up a secret writing project for the month of November, but then I remembered that my life usually feels like this.
So I think I am actually going to relax at the end of each day. For one month. Just to see if it’s a thing I can do.
But not until we get those last 5 things. I wish I could tell you we had gotten rid of the piano, our reliance on two vehicles, and our house. This is a blog based on my real life, however, and real life does not always pan out as planned. I know this is a shock to you, dear reader, it was a shock to me, too. The Secret is a lie.
I am hopeful, however, to end this thing with a bang, rather than a whimper*, but I would not count on it, if I were you.
Day 364 scorecard: 1820 down, 5 to go
* Don’t read anything into the poem choice, friends, I just thought it behooved me to give credit for the line rather than to act as thought I’d come up with it on my own. It’s not like this is the Internet or something.