March 12, 2010
Before I wake in the morning, while in that warm, golden place between sleep and fully alert, my brain compiles wondrous plans, a “things to do today” list which seems, while I’m snuggled with my husband and a cat or two, 100 percent accomplishable. Things like:
Scrub the 11 living room Levalor blinds, by hand, one at a time, in the basement laundry tub. While they’re drying, wash the 11 windows with a vinegar and water solution. Use newspaper ‘rags.’
Defrost the veal sweetbreads that have been in the freezer for a year so I can begin the 3-day recipe I found six months ago in one of my 70 or so cookbooks, and invite Kate over for dinner on Saturday. Like I promised. Research side dishes and wine pairing. Grocery shop tomorrow.
Complete wall paper removal in upstairs bathroom, began 18 months ago. Unscrew shelf and towel bars. Prep walls. Spackle. Select paint color from paint chip strips (where are they?). Find where Benjamin Moore paints are sold since Blonder’s closed. Go buy paint. Paint.
Find an on-line searchable database of new home sales (not County Auditor’s), and incorporate along with new poverty statistics and maps into marketing plan. Complete analysis of three surveys. Formulate action plan and tactics. Keep nonprofit budget in mind.
Remember that I’m thinking about this and write it down for blog. Be creative.
Then my feet hit the floor and with that, all my ambition dissipates. None of these tasks get done, except for the writing part. All gone until another morning when my brain, once again, has a mind of its own.