Little Dickens

I was thinking of the opening lines of A Tale of Two Cities. It is like that here but on a much smaller scale. It will be the easiest of times and the most trying of times. There is something approaching that may cause things to get difficult. It is not a calamity nor a doom but it is something that I could have avoided if I had been just a tad more diligent. I will get through it, somehow I will get through it, I just at this moment cannot see how.
It is like everything else about my life. Through a legacy of misguided action or the lethargy of inaction I have put myself in a situation and somehow the situation is going to have to work itself out, it always does. It may take moments or it may take years but somehow things work out.
There have been times when what seemed like a monumental catastrophy has turned out to be the best thing for me in the long term. I think back to an accident many years ago that probably saved my life and two wrenching partings that probably turned out best for everyone involved.
There are those in my life that I would desperately like to be closer to but, knowing me in my peculiar ways, it is probably better for them that we maintain a distance. Absence may make my heart grow fonder but distance makes their hearts grow tolerant. Is it better to be loved or just not despised? Toleration is the answer.
As the poster boy for Muddles, I will just muddle through. It is sometimes difficult to remember that without some rain there is no mud to muddle through and only a parched and impassible desert. It is better to muddle than to drown in an ocean of rain or dessicate in an arid wasteland.