I find myself with a couple of days on my own. When I realized this an odd little bout of motivation was sparked. Before I knew it, I had a list of (conservatively) 50 items that I would take care of while I had this time. They ranged from the mundane to the impossible (or perhaps writing a book in a weekend is possible for some, but unlikely to be possible for me).
So, I woke up this morning, rolled over and looked for the same delighted intent to accomplish everything on the list this weekend.
And I’m still looking.
The first thing on the list was to take a new exercise class. Ugh. Money. Leaving the apartment early in the morning. People.
The old DVD went in the machine. I did most of it between far more important texts.
Now I’m scanning the remaining 49 items on the list. I see a lot of cleaning. I see finishing the renovation of my living room on the list. I see 5 (not kidding) writing projects that I should start. Oooh– lunch with Dee. Hands up if you can figure out which one will actually get done? Yep. But, hey, friendships are important.
What happened between last night and this morning? Where did that spark of motivation go? Or was it never really there? Let’s face it, it is easy to plan what I’ll do “tomorrow,” but when tomorrow comes planning must be swapped for doing and suddenly the enormity of some of the tasks becomes overwhelming.
Will I do the dishes? Probably. Will they be done with the joy that I envisioned last night? Eh.
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