Ah, I remember the days when Friday was a celebration of a week's worth of work well done. Sure that work shifted from not hurting anyone in a cubicle near me, to not letting any harm come to small people who gave me even less personal space than said cubicle. Now, I sense another shift in the air. Sure, I have the thrill of togetherness and sleeping in to look forward to on the weekends, but seem to be coming up a little empty on what accomplishments I have made during the week. I fear I am becoming...lazy.
I am swimming in this sort of limbo land trying to figure out if it is okay to be content with being content. Can I fill each day with things that make me happy, even if they don't contribute to the family piggy bank? If I haven't tackled at least one miserable task, did I make enough of an effort? How many dust bunnies are too many? Is there something I can take for procrastination? If so, I'll wait and look into it tomorrow. This is not to be mistaken for the pity party I briefly tried to organize for myself last Friday. This is just a call (to myself, that you happen to be eavesdropping on) to define myself. I kind of like the way I've been blowdrying my hair recently and thought maybe I could capitalize on that effort and continue the forward momentum...maybe even incorporate the bottle of hair dye, (read: gray hair disguise system) I bought two weeks ago, into my plan.
I think I might just need to fine tune my to-do lists. Lately I have been keeping stuff off the list that I don't want to do. The pile of stuff I need to list on eBay could consume me before I deal with it! To put it on the list though, for the whole family to see, could result in a public notification of my failure if I continue to ignore it though. Yes, I said public failure, because what else does my teenage son talk about at lunch other than his mother's to-do list? Sheesh!
What if I tell you what I want to get done next week? Or with the rest of today even? Hmmmm...maybe this post would've been easier if I just shortened it up a bit and told you about how I started to reverse the aging process this week. I know, I didn't even set out to do so as I had barely realized that my birthday went by. I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles yesterday to deal with my license that had expired on Sunday. (Procrastinated...now there's something else I did this week, oh, and some laundry.) The lady at the lucky window I approached saw me as some sort of underachiever and had me read line seven, out of twelve. I did just fine, and when I removed my glasses for the photo shoot I thought was sure to come next, I realized that I could read all of the letters still. When I told her this, she asked me to read line eight, and then wrote "remove corrective lenses" on my papers. I was almost disappointed that I didn't get to read that very small line twelve, like the person across from me. I am sure Mrs. DMV registered this as the feat it was, and experienced much more excitement for me after I left.