… on the good days, when your fingers glide effortlessly above the fretboard, every note is perfectly formed, and you pause afterwards to savour what you just heard yourself play before moving onto the next bit of practice? … or on the not-so-good days, when your hands are half a second behind your head, the fretboard keeps growing and shrinking, and every note feels like it was pried out of the dog's mouth covered in drool and tooth marks? Today is the second kind of day for me, and I'm trying to convince myself that it's worth pushing through, because it means I'll get more of the first kind of day in the future. 🙂