of mice and men

I have the best laid plans . . . when I'm lying in bed. I stretch and think and outline out all the things I'm GOING to do when I get up. I do this every day. Today is a big housework day. Catch up on the laundry, clean the bathroom, mop the kitchen floor, pull weeds in the flower beds, vacuum, dust, windex - I'm certain you know the drill. I even plan to move the silk trees outside to wash them, move the desk from the den to the living room, hook up the new computer, clean out the refrigerator, and shave my legs.

That's the plan. At least that was the plan as of 6:30 this morning. But 6:30 is too early, so I reach for my iPod and play a few rounds of Scrabble with my daughter, answer a phone call from an old friend, and fall back to sleep. No worries. It's Saturday. I have no place to go today. Plenty of time for my agenda.

When I wake for the second time, I hit the ground running . . . until it came time to fold laundry. My first mistake came in turning on the tv. My second mistake was flipping to the SyFy channel, because I know it is Saturday and I am going to want to laugh at the cheesy dialogue and heckle the bad acting and become completely enthralled with the special effects. (In today's movie, the dragon bites off a guy's arm, and as the camera pans over his now bloody stump, you can actually see his real arm tucked behind him.)

Not to worry. The dishwasher is running, the garbage has been taken out, the silk trees have been washed, most of the house is vacuumed, the toilet & bathtub are as clean as they are going to be without some sort of nuclear bleach bomb, the laundry basket is empty and the clothes are now folded and put away. And to maximize my time, I always work during commercials. Unless, of course, it's a Toyota Sienna commercial.

Then I realize it's 1:30, so I make a little lunch (which totally counts as housework) and flip channels and become quickly engrossed in a movie where James Garner is telling Sally Field he's in love for the last time in his life, and I sigh a wistful sigh. Then I click the remote again and Mr. Darcy is telling Miss Elizabeth his feelings have not changed, and the look between them lets you know they are in love, and not just fluffy love, but that with-your-whole-heart-until-the-day-you-die kind of love. Sigh again.

Now, since I'm already vegging, I play a few more rounds of IPod Scrabble, check Facebook, my Blogher Revenue ($4.63 this week), and realize I have now misplaced my early morning motivation. I try to find it. I sit here and stretch and think and outline all the things I still want to accomplish. Only now they don't seem so important. The house is clean. Mostly. Except for the kitchen floor, but I chose the kitchen tile based on the single point that it doesn't show dirt. So really, mopping it would be wasted effort unless somebody is planning to eat off it. Somebody besides the ants, that is.

So I took a bath and shaved my legs. I can now cross off the last thing on my list. I'm finished. Right?

Sounds good to me.