One of my favorite memories about growing up was buying fresh, neat packages of notebook paper for the new school year. The pages were so clean, so crisp--just begging to be written on. Not like those tattered, wrinkled leftover sheets from the previous year. It was a treat which, combined with new penny loafers, made going back to school in the fall (not August!!!) a real pleasure.
I am getting that same feeling today, as I anticipate the coming three-day weekend. Since we won't be one of the millions on the road this Memorial Day weekend, I have the luxury of working on some of my stagnant projects. It's like that fresh package of notebook paper--a clean, unblemished weekend, not yet soiled by wasted errands and the sleep siren calling my name. It's a whole weekend waiting to be discovered, trim begging to be nailed, border aching to be stripped, a young garden just waking up with tiny weeds poking their heads through the mulch.
My fear is that I won't get anything accomplished because I will want to do so much. I dread the thought of waking up Tuesday morning and seeing little to no visible evidence of the weekend left behind.
And so, I make lists. Lists are my middle name. I've always tried to distill things down to a list of tasks, supplies, goals, achievements, whatever. And while they can be helpful in the beginning, they are awfully hard to revisit in the end if you haven't checked off at least half of the things printed there.
#1 on my list is the bookshelf trim. Kate will be out of town with a friend (giving me one more thing to worry about--them driving to Florida), so I can have full possession of her room.
#2 is the window seat cushion. Of course, if I actually get to this, it automatically adds several additional tasks to the list, simply because it means I have set up the sewing machine. I hate to start sewing, especially when I have no decent place to cut fabric. Therefore, if it's up, I must do EVERYTHING that needs mending at the same time.
#3, consequently, is to sew the rip in the neck of my workout shirt that has hung in the closet for over a year waiting to be repaired.
#4 would be to mend the rip in Kate's skirt that is wadded up on a shelf in the laundry room to prevent her from wearing it with the hole anyway.
#5 is to mend anything else that my husband has hung on the telescope--which is now his "to be repaired" clothing rack.
#6 is to clean out the grout residue in my tub/shower and regrout. I bought the new grout and tools about four months ago. I need to finish this before my nephew and wife come for their visit in two weeks.
#7 is to finish stripping the wallpaper border in the drum room. About half is done but ragged. My husband asked me about a month ago what he could do to help me with my projects since I'm so stressed out all the time and complaining about not enough hours in the day. (Not to mention my hot flashes.) I told him he could strip that border for me. I guess he's getting old, too, because the whole thing seems to have disappeared from his memory :-)
#8, if I make it this far, is to collapse and wish I had a four-day weekend instead of three.