Delayed Agenda
My first week after camp was out, I had so much to do,
but how I’d really spend it, I didn’t have a clue.
Sunday I was resting–staying close to home–
eschewing rituals of makeup, jewelry or comb.
Catching up on sleep and alone time and my blog.
Straightening camp clutter and shampooing my dog.
By Monday I was taking samples to the lab
for a friend who wasn’t feeling very fab.
Taking her electrolytes and medicine to do
what was necessary to execute a coup
on all the small amoebas who’d colonized her bod
and made of her their temple, their dwelling place, their god.
On Monday night there was a birthday party for a friend,
but Tuesday brought my social life abruptly to an end
as I commenced a sort of party of my own,
communicating my own pleas upon the phone
for a friend to help me, for I was feeling fragile
and had an urgent need for electrolytes and Flagyl!
Two days at home just running between my bed and loo
left me with no time left for other things to do.
But when at last the meds kicked in, I found that I could go
to execute my errands, to meetings and a show
of kids on ukuleles that I’d committed to–
in three weeks, the third showing of kids for us to view.
So now it is a Sunday. I’ve fed the dogs a bite
and I have come back into bed to finish out the rite
of publishing this blog post and tweaking a few pictures
that I hope you’ll approve of with a minimum of strictures.
I’ll have a swim and then I’ll tackle that job I’ve been dreading
of cleaning all the piles off my desktop and my bedding!
Computers, files, folders, forms, boxes, books and cards.
Bits and pieces, piles and scraps, strips and orts and shards.
For months I’ve just kept piling things that I have just done,
unpacked or started packing–while I am on the run.
Now it’s time to organize, to put away and hide
all this mess I’ve found it necessary to abide.
I wish my life were simpler, my habitat more sparse,
but that would mean a schedule that gets me off my arse
earlier each morning, which would cut into my blog time–
my swimming and my photographing, dreaming and my dog time.
With only so much time each day, I must choose how to spend it;
for time is just not flexible. There is no way to bend it.
So for two months I have chosen to write and teach and play–
to exercise and see my friends and post my blog each day.
And once a week to clear some space–my desk that’s in the sala.
Then I did a week of camp and the final gala.
Then I cleared the dining table of mat cutter and books,
papers, art supplies and pens. ratchets, screws and hooks.
Then off again to one more week of art and words and kids
and those mean amoebas that put me in the skids.
But now I’m almost finished with this tedious little rhyme
which means that I have finally nearly reached the time
when I’ll do the final sorting task that I have to do–
of sorting of more desk rubble–the whole motley crew!
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Obstacle Course.” Think about what you wanted to accomplish last week. Did you? What are the things that hold you back from doing everything you’d like to do?
A great story set to rhyme. It reminded me of wise words a writer once told me: File, don’t pile.
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If I stopped to do this every time, though, I’d lose track of more important or top priority actions..what all the messy ones proclaim, I’ll bet! I tend to wait until the piles have no way to go but down (as in toppling over) and then to sort into baskets according to their destination: bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room, studio. Then I depart like Little Red Riding Hood carrying her baskets off to their separate worlds. Good advice–Sorry for the excuses!!!
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Ha Ha – Einstein said that a messy desk was a sign of a busy mind. He wondered what a clean desk would represent.
Press on. You’re doing good.
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Oh oh. Well I messed that up then, didn’t I? Ironic….
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You are one of those very BUSY retired people. You sound busier than I was when I was working!
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I always feel somewhat cowed when people remark that I sound “busy.” I always feel like my Aunt Stella, who used to get flustered and run around in tight little circles with her arms flapping and saying “Blahsy Blah!” when she got over stimulated or distressed. I feel like perhaps I’m doing the same orally! A friend once got snappish when I was feeling stressed over a busy agenda and said, ‘Judy if you’re going to do it, just do it and stop talking about it!” I never felt like she liked me much after that…and perhaps I deserved it. But, in way, I guess that is what blogs are about–giving voice to our angst, joys, overloads, gripes and successes. Our protesting friends can just choose not to read! And if enough do this, then I’ll know that I’m at the “Blahsey Blah” stage.
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Many congratulations on finding surfaces in your lovely looking home! Enjoyed your spritely poem too!
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Ha! Thanks. Should have said that every surface in my home is not like this…just the desks when I get really busy. I really do like organization and order. Not always possible, though. Company is always a good excuse to get pristine again. This time it was just for myself, however. Thanks for your comment, Gettingreal!
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Loved reading your poem – it made me laugh 😂
I don’t know why every level surface in my house fills up with papers, detritus, etc., but they always do, no matter how often I tidy it all away. I’m fighting a losing battle really – might as well leave it well alone and do something more productive 📇
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Me, too. I don’t know why I have so much more paper around than anyone else I know.
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Love the poem.
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Thanks, Andrea.
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Fragile and Flagyl … great rhyme! That stuff will kill anything – almost. Love your altars!
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