Tuesday, July 15, 2008

what will this day be like, I wonder...

I just woke up. It's 11am. I'm off today, but have a lot that I wanted to get done. However, I'm feeling dreadfully unmotivated and lazy right now. I'm going to have to make myself get out of bed. Oh well.

Right, so as soon as I DO get out of bed, here are the things that I need to get done. I'm typing this as a blog mostly for my own use; I don't have paper and pen within reach. Matt cleaned up yesterday.

1. Exercise. I may or may not do this. I've been trying to use that strange exercise machine that Kelli left and I never got around to getting rid of. It's better than nothing.
2. Shower.
3. Clean the kitchen and the living room. That shouldn't take more than an hour (they're both very messy).
4. Birth control. I have maybe two of the placebos left.
5. Write some checks, pay some bills.

Damn, none of that stuff looks any fun at all! Oh, for heaven sake. I don't want to do any of it except take a shower and get birth control. Then I want to go to Provence or something to eat lunch and read.

Okay, I'll compromise with myself. Maybe I'll do 15 minutes on the Gazelle (the exercise thingie), take a shower, do the dishes, then go to Planned Parenthood, and do the rest this afternoon. That sounds like a good compromise.

This is worth mentioning -- Matt and I went to Southern Thrift the other day (it was my whim; we were there for Dragon Garden take-out) and I ended up spending close to $50 -- a hefty tab for a thrift store, I know. I found a cast iron Martha Stewart brand skillet for $20 for one. The rest was spent on books. I think I bought five? There was a Edna St Vincent Millay book (collected poetry), a book of Robert Browning's collected poetry, a collection of the Sir Peter Wimsey stories by Dorothy Sayers, a history of Greece by Will Durant (I think), and a book called the Adoption Reader. I mean, what finds!!! I usually don't even both with books at thrift stores since they typically never have anything good.

Maybe I'll start the Dorothy Sayers after I finish this Carson McCullers book. The Adoption Reader is going to be hard to read. I started it the other night and had to put it down because it was making me cry. Well, it was making me weepy ... this made me start to cry --
Popcorn. Birthday cake. Packing school lunches: one sandwich, one fruit, one snack, one drink. Eating popsicles in the parking lot of the pool. Chocolate chip cookie dough. Flaming marshmallows held too closely to the coals.

I have cried over all the things I haven't gotten to share with him. I have cried over that child for twenty-one years. I have cried because I'm worried for him, and I have cried, knowing that he is the only one in this world who could chase away my loneliness.
So, yeah. You would cry, too.

Okay, enough of bed and blogs. Time to finally get up....


1 comment:

Kelli said...

Give it more than 15 minutes. You'll hardly break a sweat otherwise. It's meant for people starting off in exercising. If you spend time on it, you'll feel it. Stretch first - very important. Oh, and don't just use the arm pieces for lazily swinging your arms back and forth. Put some weight into your arms as well. That's how you tone them. :)

What's in My Journal (by William Stafford)

Odd things, like a button drawer. Mean
things, fishhooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous
discards. Space for knickknacks, and for
Alaska. Evidence to hang me, or to beautify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you can't f ind them. Somebody's terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.