A Day Off

I usually take Wednesdays off. As soon as I wake up, my mind starts sorting through the opportunities the day holds. The constant battle between the things I want to do and those I need to do begins.

Today, here are some of the choices:


I have boxes of photos, papers, and books that I brought from my dad's house. I need to sort through and organize them.



Most of the drawers in my house look similar to this one. It's weighty on my brain, all the junk that we keep. I could clean out a few of them at a time.



My planters have weeds and a cat flourishing in them. It's time to plant the garden. My husband does most of the heavy work, but I could go buy plants for the garden and flowers for the deck.



Laundry. Always a chore, um, I mean choice. The grocery store too. Sweep up the plant droppings that come in on our shoes in the spring. Wipe the counter, empty/fill the dishwasher. Clean out the old food in the refrigerator.



An email comes in telling me of a writing contest. I could write a new story, edit old ones, research literary magazines, submit to them. I could go through the 10,000 photographs on my computer and delete the ones that aren't that good - be ruthless, my friend Jan Phillips says.



So it's 11:00. I've talked to one of my sisters, one of my friends, and one of my daughters. I've checked mail and run through facebook. I've listened to a few songs by the amazing Joan Osborn on YouTube. I've done two loads of laundry, printed out a photograph for a writing contest, taken the pictures you see here. If I count the laundry as a 'need' and the phone calls and blog post as a 'want' I think the morning has been a balanced success.

Now to eat some lunch and think about the hours of the afternoon. Should I go see my mother-in-law, sit quietly listening to music with her? Should I go to the gym? Tackle something from the list above? The possibilities are endless, and that makes me happy.