For A Monday
Monday. Fog swirling on the streets this morning, an opportunity to use my fog lights, an option I added to the Element when I bought it that I find I rarely use. Still, they look cool. Breakfast at the usual place reading the usual papers, then a trip to the hospital for an overdue blood test. When you take a blood thinner you have to have a monthly blood test to be sure the blood is thin, but not too thin, and over time I find I get careless about keeping the schedule so my test this morning was a couple of weeks late. I suspect I'll get a call later suggesting I take more or less of the stuff to bring my numbers in line. This will probably become more complicated as my brain decays and I forget to take all kinds of these clever little things that require a schedule.
Then again, it's foggy and the stucco people are back to apply the third and last coat this week. Maybe I can then stop hearing noises in the living room at night. Not every night, you understand, and when I do wake up it's usually because Ms. Emmy has jumped off the bed and headed for the cat food in the kitchen. Last night it was to run sprints around the apartment, digging her claws well into the rugs and laying rubber. I suspect cats don't do this when burglars are present, but then you never know: noises in your living room. Diddle-dee-doom.
An odd note. I bought a tank of gas Friday morning using a debit card, but the charge hasn't shown up on my online statement. It has always shown up on the statement in what approaches real time: insert the card and the card deducts the purchase. Did I luck out? Did I cheat an oil company out of a tank of gas? Probably not. It will show up one of these days once I've forgotten about it. As I said, an odd note, a glitch in a world where they've got their hands all comfortably settled in around your throat and nothing ever gets by (me oh my). Could be I'm hallucinating.
So, out to buy a monthly bus ticket today, make a plan to use it, a prop to get me out of the house, get me walking, huffing and puffing, shooting pictures.
Bullshit.
Bullshit is a little strong, but perhaps appropriate. There's almost no way to go through your days without hearing tips to make your life more wonderful, one of those tips being “plan and work toward goals”. How many times do you hear that in a month, in a year? During the holidays squished between the “how to lose weight in twenty days” commercials? Well for some reason I head it on a list of ten ways to achieve (happiness, nirvana, orgasm) recently and it clicked. Maybe I was vulnerable, my blood sugar low, but goals and achieving them suddenly rocketed right up there with hot sake and afternoon naps. Hard to figure. Why even try?
So, a set of goals. (I've been informed by experts you never put a comma after the word “so” when it's used to start a sentence, but I want a pause there and nobody, to my knowledge, is grading this stuff. So it stays.) What goals? Start small. Start with goals that I can achieve in just a few minutes. Get a string of them going, add to their complexity. Nothing too radical, such as using the oven to cook a dinner, but I'm looking at the living room rug at the moment, realizing some shuffling of the furniture would be nice and could be done in say ten easy minutes. Enough easy minutes for a Monday, I'm thinking.
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