How to Get Nothing Done in a Day
I really don’t know how I do it. I get up in the morning, maybe not exactly full of vim and vigor, but my eyes are open, and I’m standing, so I’m up. I take care of my morning ritual: make my tea, take my pills with my juice, use my Netti pot, and then turn on my phone and sit down to wake up slowly to today’s business.
It does take time to delete the hundred and forty-six e-mails asking for money or trying to sell me something (which is also asking for money.) I thought after the election, the donation e-mails would stop or at least slow down. Wishful thinking. I gave all I could in October. I’m tapped. If it’s left up to me, the post office will die, and elections will have to stop. And if they can match my $3 donation 146 times, what the hell do they need my $3 for?
After I finish my phone, I go to my computer. The distance between the two is two feet, but by the time my computer boots up, there are 40 more e-mails to delete. Then I visit a couple of my favorite sites, like Facebook and YouTube, and it’s time to take my shower, because it’s nearly 1 PM, even if I got up at 9. I don’t know where the time goes.
After showering and getting dressed, I take my Boost and a cigarette and go with the dogs out in the backyard. I have to do it, because they look forward to it so much. All three of them are dancing around like we’re going to do something exciting. My husband opens the door, and all three dogs go flying through the magnetic screen like they’ve never been out before in their lives. He holds the door as I come creeping after them, still not quite with it. Lately, the cooler weather wakes me up a little, and I admire my huge back yard with the woods, proud and impressed that the bank owns so much. I make my payments every month so I can stay here.
I return to the kitchen refreshed, ready for my tea and toast and a little reading time while I eat. Sometimes the book is so good (or I am so lazy) that I sit there for an hour or more. When my bum gets tired from sitting on the hard kitchen chair, I might actually think about taking care of the list of things I have to do. I might get one or two of them done before it’s time to quit for the day. The other day, I had so much energy I actually wrapped a couple of Christmas presents, meaning I only have 60 left. Okay, maybe only 20. 15. Some of them are easy — little boxes that just required a lot of cutting of that roll of paper that is bigger than I am and knocks things off the island as I’m screwing up the tape. The hard ones are the ones that don’t come in boxes, like the funny T-shirts I get for the men on my list, like my son and older grandson. Those I sort of just roll up and then roll the wrapping paper around the rolled up shirt. And knock more stuff off the island.
Usually, though, after I’ve finished reading, I’m in the mood to talk to someone (my husband is in front of the TV,) so I’ll call my sister or one cousin or the other. That kills an hour or so, and then it’s time to check the computer once more before supper. It’s dark by now, so day is officially done. The earlier the sun sets, the earlier the day is over, so these are very short days.
After dinner, I delete the 70 e-mails that have accumulated, visit Facebook one more time to see if any of my relatives have posted cute baby pictures, and my husband comes in and kisses me good night. He’s a morning person, going to bed at 8 every night, and I’m a night person, going to bed at 2 AM. He’s up between 5 and 6 AM; I drag myself out around 10. He wakes up all chirpy and happy, and I’d have to whack him with a frying pan for being so damned alive, so it’s best we don’t get up at the same time.
I allow myself one news program at 9; more than that, and I want to shoot myself, so then I go, these days, over to a Hallmark movie and watch half of it, saving the other half for tomorrow night. I would get a cavity if I watched a whole one all in one sitting.
11 PM and I’m back on the computer, deleting more e-mails, looking at pictures of puppies and anything cute. If the spirit moves me, I might blog about how exciting and fun-filled my day was. Or I might offer lessons on how to accomplish absolutely nothing in a whole day.
May next year, at some point, be filled with fairs and museums and festivals and lunches out with friends. I’ll be another year older on Sunday, and I don’t have a lot of time left to waste. I’d like to waste it on SOMETHING, not NOTHING. Go, vaccine!