there i was in the kitchen at eight this morning. there i was getting all too metaphorical as my mind trailed off with the music playing in the background. and i ended up with this assuption; making pancakes is a lot like everyday life for me. messy, a bit unkept. i try my best to add the precise amounts and perfect ingredients, but only to find that improvising and compromising are more my style. a pinch here and a smidgen there, sifting oatmeal with the palm of my hand into the bowl until it feels just right. i'll spoon out a generous helping of my finished product and let it mold freely in the hot skillet. and then i wait to see how it turns out. success is good, mistakes are better. counters, stovetop cluttered with the aftermath of my cooking. a sink full of dirty dishes waiting to be washed. my effort and my time taken? i come out with realizing it all is worth it, 'cause it all works out in the end. if i'm lucky, i'll walk away with a lesson learned. or perhaps the knowledge of how to do it better next time. maybe i'll even wind up with a delicious pancake on my plate for breakfast.