Good'n Nough

A couple of days ago I sent a tweaked recent blog entry to the local paper. As soon as the send button was clicked, and the email beyond my reach, waves of underlying panic rose. Will they like it? Will they publish it? Edit it? Will the readers like it, or should we put the house on the market and steal away in the middle of the night?

For the past two mornings I have scoured the online paper to see if it's there. Nothing so far. Half of me breathes a sigh of relief, while the other starts worrying about tomorrow's edition and asking, "Hey what's wrong with me?" Was it too wordy? Too long? Too sappy?

Crazy.

All the while, my eldest in facing polynomial hell. All the while, I'm telling her if you try your hardest, and I've watched her painstakingly go through every practice problem known to math student, then that is all you can ask of yourself. Regardless of the grade.

All the while, isn't it strange, how easy it is for me to handout advice, but not to see the wisdom for myself.