Today: is most definitely Friday. It’s only one o’clock, although it feels like it could at least be three. I’m munching on some dried mango slices given to me by a co-worker, and hoping that by the time I leave the office today, the Sun has found its way through the clouds. I’ve got my dayplanner open on my desk, just to my left. On today’s page, I’ve taped a schedule for my evening:
430 – enjoy the productive serenity found in the empty church office, send an email to 500 people, and learn as much as I can about the Dewey Decimal System (without actually taking a class).
630 – head home, and convince myself that a list of long neglected to-do’s is much more important than being with friends.
635 – begin to-do list: whites in the wash, dismantle the shelf, darks in the wash, hang the whites, fold the clothes that are still hanging on my drying rack (that I put there last week), organize my desk, look for things to give away (to lessen the load on my bedroom floor), and then, of course, finish the laundry. (I think it’s safe to say that laundry is very quickly becoming the bane of my existence)
800 – break time. Time to consider the lilies; time to eat the meal I’ve just neglected. Open up the laptop while my food is heating up, and download the stack of free itunes songs I’ve accumulated from miscellaneous starbucks visits. Throw on an old familiar sweater, prep the tea, and curl up in front of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (the one with the secret closet, or the one where Chandler takes a bath!).
900 – realize that by “break time”, I meant “I have reached capacity”. Continue hanging out with my favourite fictional characters. Wonder what all my real-life friends are doing. Mentally prepare for tomorrow morning’s run. Revel in the long forgotten act of solitude.