There are so many things I mean to do that never seem to get done. I have no excuses. I keep saying that I’m going to read the classics, reorganize my closet, finish a scrapbook, and clean the silverware drawer. Yet, I find an infinite number of things to do that seem more important—like watching the entire first season of Grey’s Anatomy on DVD, researching the minutia of tartans, and bitching about nothing in particular to anyone willing to listen. I hope I’m not the only one so far behind on the personal betterment to-do list. Why do we make decisions against our better judgment? What am I supposed to learn from this (non) experience?
I berate myself and commiserate with you, but all the while there are small things we do everyday that are extraordinary that I’m sure we underestimate. Today I managed to write for seven minutes during lunch after Latte Lady left to go back to work. Those are seven minutes I could have easily spent mixing the perfect shade of lip-gloss or doing something equally inane. I guess there are small victories for which to be grateful.
Tomorrow I vow to be a more disciplined office goddess, a health-conscious consumer, a well-informed citizen, and maybe a little less self-deprecating. I don’t hold myself to unreasonable standards, I swear.
Currently Playing: The Wreckers, The Good Kind