"What time do you think it is?" asked the husband.
"Time to dust the room," I answered.
I got up, picked up my glasses, and headed to the bathroom. As I walked by the stairs, I glanced down at the clock in the living room. 9:30. The mama had slept later than usual. The husband had slept his eight hours. I was lacking again. Oh, well, what does it matter? The three of us have not had to answer to a boss's clock in years. Only our own.
My self-discipline comes and goes. There is so much about which to be disciplined. House cleaning, for one. Writing, for another. Finding writing jobs, a third. Exercising, most indubitably, a fourth. And then there is downsizing our stuff that has been in storage for years now. The list of what I need to work on keeps growing rather than shortening.
So. That's life.
Today, my goals are to dust and vacuum some or all of the house. Maybe mop the floor. Find out if crows eat sparrows. Learn more about Princess Urduja, a warrior princess (someone else's words, not mine) who lived in the 13th century in the Philippines. Write a short piece about California school nurses. And, try to create a to-do list of things I must do at work so my boss will get off my case.
This morning, before breakfast, I got on Facebook and came across two links to interesting articles and a YouTube video of a delightful song. I thought you might enjoy one, two, or all three of the messages.
"In Defense of Adverbs," by Dina Santorelli, Making 'Baby Grand,' the Novel: The Last Trimester.
"Nothing Grows Forever," by Clive Thompson, Mother Jones.
P.S. I'm hopping around with the Follow Friday 40 and Over! today. Check it out.