Monday, September 22, 2008

Another Monday

You wouldn't believe how many people have thought of forming a giant to-do list out of little to-do Post-It notes. Anything but actually work the list, I guess.

Things I didn't get done today:

  • order a Rhoomba (involves research)
  • order Obama bumper stickers (takes time)
  • go to health club
  • take a walk
  • wash kitchen floor
  • rewash those tee-shirts that got wrinkled last week when the power was out and I couldn't put them in the dryer
  • figure out what this blog is about.

And how to get out of these bullets. There.

None of this would be an issue, would it, if I hadn't made a list to begin with? Well, I let the energy of Monday trip me up.

Things I did get done:


drew/painted a picture with my watercolor pencils, without reading the instructions

ordered a book for my grandson with his name in the title

reviewed (sort of) and erased over a thousand junk emails. What are we going to do about this?

wrote a poem about my family birthday dinner last night at Texas Roadhouse, hosted by my daughter every year. We had the ritual rattlesnake bites for appetizers, and I had my annual Marguerita. They had to explain to me that if I didn't want frozen, I therefore wanted on the rocks (I don't like ice at all, but Margueritas just come two ways. They don't come warm.) It came in a huge, heavy glass, leading me to remark that one of these years I won't be able to lift the glass, and they'll have to deliver the Marguerita through IV drip. They promised to do that.

If there is anything better than sitting with Tom and Cassie and Otto and Chris in all those peanut shells and noise and chaos, everyone at ease, friendly, happy; and receiving among my gifts two stupendously glamorous jeweled Halloween pumpkin barrettes, I don't know what it would be. Driving home I made a point with myself that this, this is what I want to remember as I am dying. I know better, but I keep trying to organize my death. You should get to organize something.

And so the day goes, so the year goes. At the grocery store I bought the season's first Fuji mum. Alas, too late. Half the petals fell off in the car, revealing an interesting green center. The remaining half is in a vase on my kitchen table.

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