Older, but no wiser

It is unreasonable of me to expect that:
I should have such complete control of my life that I can create at will long, uninterrupted spans to devote wholeheartedly to whatever pursuit takes my fancy.

It is unreasonable of me to expect that:
I should always be capable of filling such spans with stunningly original thought, astonishing depth of feeling, amazingly profound insight, and so give birth to perfectly structured posts of breathtaking clarity and perfect language.

Even if, just occasionally, circumstances defeat me, I should nevertheless be able, at the drop of a hat, to take advantage of every interstitial moment when my attention isn’t required elsewhere, by instantly homing in on some feature of my immediate everyday surroundings, unnoticed by the insensitive masses, and penning an incisive, pithy piece that will draw gasps of admiration, scores of comments and be the envy of all.

It is unreasonable of me to expect that:
if I should happen across another’s post which generates in me the germ of a feeling of kinship or endorsement or gratitude or wonder, then I should be able instantly to translate that indistinct feeling into a cogent, insightful, well-crafted, caring and uplifting comment.

After all, the fact that I struggle to display such attributes when fully engaged in normal daily tasks has no relevance whatsoever. I should be able to do all these things.

As I say, such expectations are entirely unreasonable. I will stop beating myself up over them.

Or is that too an unreasonable expectation?