Of procrastination and rationalization

A beautiful fall day in Colorado = Reason enough to procrastinate.

I should be doing something more productive this fine Monday morning.

Although I’ve already walked the dogs at first light and edited two blog posts, I really should be heading to the nearby clinic for my COVID and flu vaccinations.

— It’s a walk-in clinic. I can walk in later.

Instead of watching the landscaping crew aerate the grass, dragging a sheep’s foot roller behind a speedy four-wheel ATV—which looks incredibly fun!—I really should be cleaning the house.

— The house is messy. We can live with it. We always do.

Instead of looking up seasonal recipes on the Internet, I really should be fueling up my car, Betty. (She’s my ride or die.)

— I know I’ll make tacos or something routine for dinner. Plus, Betty and I never go anywhere without the thrill and possibility of an empty gas tank.

Instead of writing a blog post, I really should get serious and start outlining the story that’s been spinning in my head, wanting to be put to paper.

— I suck at character development. Plus, writing anything more than 800 words is damn near cardio for me.

Instead of gazing out the window at the leaves blowing from the trees and blanketing the ground beneath, I really should stop dreading the seasonal shift and just accept it.

— Winter is coming.

Instead of researching why most of my tomatoes sprouted and immediately got blossom rot, I really should be grateful that anything grows in my little raised-bed garden amid a forest of trees.

— Yesterday, I harvested the single healthy tomato that made it through and with the single small green pepper that also made it this year, today I enjoyed a breakfast salad. I’m pleased to report the tomato was absolutely delicious. If only there were a few more to enjoy.

Far from a bountiful harvest.

Instead of wondering if I’m drinking enough water, I really should just get up from the desk, go downstairs, and refill my tumbler.

— In a quest to do something healthier for myself each day and to avoid The Weed constantly asking: ‘Did you drink enough water today?’ I’ve started drinking water like someone needing to fill a dromedary hump. Still, The Weed asks. I get annoyed and respond: ‘I could be standing before you with my own severed finger in my hand and you would still ask if I drank enough water. Enough already.’

Instead of Googling the tiny gnats that appeared and reappeared and reappeared in the kitchen the past few weeks, I should refill the Zevo traps and rinse out the trash can beneath the counter.

— See previous response to having a clean house. It’s overrated. Plus, in my mind, swatting the gnats counts as ‘arm day.’

And now, it’s raining and as outlined I really should be doing other things.

— The couch and a good book are calling. I must go.