What Horace had in mind was that you should gently pull on the day’s stem, as if it were, say, a wildflower or an olive, holding it with all the practiced care of your thumb and the side of your finger, which knows how to not crush easily crushed things—so that the day’s stalk or stem undergoes increasing tension and draws to a thinness, and a tightness, and then snaps softly away at its weakest point, perhaps leaking a little milky sap, and the flower, or the fruit, is released in your hand. Pluck the cranberry or blueberry of the day tenderly free without damaging it, is what Horace meant—pick the day, harvest the day, reap the day, mow the day, forage the day. Don’t freaking grab the day in your fist like a burger at a fairground and take a big chomping bite out of it. That’s not the kind of man that Horace was.
man:*walks over looking annoyed* What are you doing?
me:Ummmm.... *man cuts me off*
man:DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST COME OUT HERE AND SMOKE WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT? YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!!!
me:What the fuck are you talking about?
man:HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!! COME WITH ME!!!
me:*follows fuming mad man into the English Academy next door to my office*
man:*speaking to secretary* Which class is he teaching now? I found him outside SMOKING AROUND THE CORNER!!!
woman:Ummm, he doesn't work here.
woman:He doesn't work here. He's wearing a suit!!!
me:She's right, I am wearing a suit.
man:Why didn't you tell me you didn't work here?!?
me:Because I wanted your staff to see that you are one of THE STUPIDEST MOTHERFUCKERS ON EARTH. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO WORKS FOR YOU? WHAT KIND OF BOSS ARE YOU? THIS ISN'T EVEN A BIG SCHOOL! IF THERE WEREN'T LITTLE KIDS AROUND, I'D FUCKING CUT YOU SO BAD YOU POOR-EDUCATION-OFFERING-SON-OF-A-BITCH-MOTHERFUCKER!