The Performance Review

By Jim Hagarty

At the end of an average day
A man thinks, as he settles in bed,
“What did I accomplish today?
“What things could I have done instead?”

Some days, he achieved quite a bit
And other days, not very much.
Some days he did little but sit.
And some days he had Midas’ Touch.

But whether he did much or not
Reflection at bedtime will show
He probably took his best shot
And needs to let all the rest go.

Cause whether or not he achieved
Anything either great or too small
At bedtime, he is finally relieved,
To remember that he tried at all.

Each day has a rhythm, it seems,
That is set by some otherworld fate.
Today we were denied our dreams,
Tomorrow we’ll do something great.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.