Monday, November 05, 2007

If I blog it, maybe I'll do it.

The problem is: if there's no predictable, tangible consequence for not doing something or reward for doing it, it's likely I will not do it. It's not that I confidently decide that it's not worth doing, and free myself from the task altogether, it's more that I think it should be done, it's just not important enough to do This Minute. So I'll do it Some Day. And here, fill in your own platitudes about This Minute being all we have, and there's no such day as Some Day. I know, I know. So, if nothing else helps, maybe the internet will. Time for some embarrassing true confessions.

There are clothes in my mending heap that have been there for ten years. Many of them only need buttons or hems.

We moved here a year and a half ago and there are still boxes I haven't unpacked. I have rooted through them once or twice, looking for things, but they are still there, lurking and glowering.

There are plants in nursery pots in the back yard, staring longingly at their future dirt, trying to grow some sort of ambulatory bio-mechanism, so they can just plant themselves already.

I have a huge pile of papers that has been through three moves. The category? Not Trash, Not Urgent, To Be Gone Through.

However, in the "I'm not so bad" category:
1) We have no cats. Not even one, much less the 47 you might guess.

2) I brush my hair at least every (other) day, so I don't ever give the crazy-lady-unintentional-dreadlocks a chance to get established.

3) I own many hats, but none of them are made of foil.

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