I was going to write about my book shelf. But really, who cares. The post was probably going to be sort of pretentious and snotty. (I have a lot of books. I love books. I sometimes read the middle chapter of a book first to test out if I think I'll like. Sometimes I buy books because they look appealing. You get the point.)
Then I thought I'd write about my abs (which are apparently in there somewhere in my middle section. but again who cares about a middle aged woman rambling about her abs and her abs challenge.).
Then I thought I'd write about my quest to have days filled with endless moments of purpose--no time squandered. But really, that is a lie. I am more of an observer to this quest than an actual participant. Today, I spent 19 minutes reading the middle 2 chapters of a book called Devotion. I don't even remember them now. I misplaced the book. I'll never read the whole thing. I did take a selfie with it. Those 19 minutes are lost with my high school class ring--somewhere in the universe, never to be seen again.
After crossing those three things off, I really feel like I've got nothing. Today was a typical Monday-I was tired. I feel as if I had not lived up to my potential on Sunday and instead of working hard, I lazed about like one of those Greek women eating grapes (well, fired pickles in my case).So Monday is sort of a bright light shining on all my failings, which is pretty standard for me on a Monday. Other than that, I had my regular Monday calls. I made my regular Monday list.
I did not cross out much on my regular Monday list. In fact, everything on that Monday list will now wait until the wee hours of Tuesday to get completed. On Tuesday, I will squeeze all the Monday stuff into 2 hours, when I furiously write and plan and analyze Google Analytics in my pajamas while chugging coffee. And the whole time I'll wonder if my writing, planning and analyzing would have been more brilliant had I worked towards those goals in advance; versus the manic rush to meet deadlines.
In the end, I will defer to the brilliance of my procrastination and the magic those intense moments brought to the finished product.
And I won't allow anyone to prove me wrong, even though I know I am very, very, very wrong.
Anyway, so the point of this entry is that I've got nothing fun like cataract surgery or fried pickles and certainly nothing profound like grief and the emergency room to write about. I have all the regular stuff that takes up room in-between the chaos and glitter. So cross out fun, and write "regular monday."
And now that I feel I've put an acceptable number of words on the page, I am crossing "Yoke Blog Entry" off my Monday list. One less thing to cram into Tuesday. . except of course I have to write in here on Tuesday, too.