My dog is so quiet and so sneaky that sometimes I don’t even realize she’s behind me; particularly when I am folding laundry. I’ll catch the slightest movement out of the corner of my eye, turn and see my dog quietly, yet emphatically, shredding a dryer sheet that has wafted gently out of the dryer with some article of clothing. Freed from its duties and newly released from the sultry heat of its tumbling prison, it has joyously floated out so softly that I am totally unaware of its meager existence. Mason however is acutely aware that this wispy, gossamer like sheet has fallen from the dryer. She swoops in like a stealth bomber and picks it up with the prowess of a ninja slinking on the roof of an ancient palace (after all, this dog could hear a cotton ball hit a sidewalk from a fifth story window) and she swiftly and skillfully shreds it to perfectly fluffy strips that even an Eastern Bluebird would eagerly snatch up during his springtime nest gathering ventures. Her eyes meet mine; I say nary a word. The look on her face is as shameless as it is mindful, oh yeah, she knew what she was doing and she also knew that it was a no-no. She tucks her tail, bows her head and curls up on her bed, leaving the mess for me. Best let guilty dogs lie.
This post is not really about laundry, or my dog. It’s not about fluffy dryer sheets or even bluebird nests. It’s about getting things done; better yet, it’s about doing things.
I’m not really what you would call a procrastinator. I am a doer!! I make things happen! Heck, I am a maker of THINGS! I make my own Christmas cards. I decorate two Christmas trees. (Why? I don’t know why? Why not? The trees are pretty, that’s all. I like pretty.) I also cook, I paint, I shoot a lot of pictures, I create, I do, I make, I do, I make. Well, I used to do all of these things.
For the last couple of years, however, I feel like I am indeed a lost and troubled procrastinator. I make plans. Great plans. They sit, these plans, like tidy little warriors ready for marching instructions in one or two or more of the many little spiral notebooks that I can never resist buying – for inspiration of course! My big plans; my organized thoughts, my personal stories, all jotted down for later and further elaboration. The more I buy, the more productive I will surely be. For the book I am writing- my rough drafts, for my blogs – oh so slow to get started you have been, Yoda would surely scold. I think you get the picture. I write plans.
Then…I fail. I make more plans. I fail. I come up with grand and elaborate schemes, ideas and plans. But, alas, I don’t seem to be able to follow through. The problem is not that I am lazy or that I waste my time per se, the problem is that I am sick. Crazy sick. Like it won’t go away and leave me alone sick! My rheumatologist calls it chronic illness- well that sounds chronically annoying to me! I do not have time for this anymore! I’ve become rather irritated by it all. However, irritated gets me nowhere. No. Where. Freakshow!
I’ll explain some of that some other time. Now, I have someone who is helping me work through my feelings and my dealings with this ‘sickness’. She has taught me that I have to, absolutely must, no way around it…make a date with Dawn. So, that is what I have done!
Today, I decided it was time to do something with my ‘chemo’ hair. My hairdresser stopped me from going completely pixie- she cut a beautiful little bob that made it seem so much more full and happy. We had a date with Dawn!