bunt sign

Monday, April 29, 2002

I'm afraid I didn't make the best use of my time over the weekend. But if I weigh all the things I should have done against the peaceful repose that allowed me to face a Monday morning with a better attitude, then I can't call it time wasted. All the work I should have been doing will be done, and most of it on time, too.

On the other hand, I really thought I was going to get to sleep early last night. I set myself up for it, turning everything off and lying quietly in the dark. After ten minutes, I realized that wasn't going to work. Reading didn't help. I don't think TV helped but after watching for an hour I tried the darkness thing again and did eventually fall asleep. Something worked, even if it was mere exhaustion.

As I've been bragging and boasting all day, I'm not nearly as inefficient and indolent as I think I am. I portray myself the way I see myself, and most of the time that means a little too lazy and dumb to be put in a position of trust. Somehow the important things get done, almost always on time, so maybe I'm not such a big loser after all.

Sure, there were other things I could have done today. I went through my in basket and found an OSHA form that I have to fill out. But it's not due until August 30. I have four months! And, let's see, the builders' exchange wants us to let them know how we want to be listed in their latest directory. That's not due until May 3, which is at the other end of this week. There's a lot of slacking off I can do between now and then.

No, I'm not lazy. Not at all.

For most of the day I was kicking myself for not getting out in the garden all weekend. Saturday it was too cold, and Sunday I was too tired. Then it rained last night and part of the morning, and I thought I wouldn't have a chance today, but by late this afternoon we had a bit of hazy sunshine and I tromped out through the wet grass to get to the weeds. They came up much easier than they had Friday, before the rain.

There's a touch of synergy in the fact that my yard waste container is just big enough to handle all the weeds I can pull up between pickup days. From Friday to Thursday, I can find just enough time and barely enough energy to fill it up. If I were any younger, or if I had more free time, or if the container were bigger, this symmetry would be compromised. It's funny how the least important things in life can work out so well. Why can't the big stuff do the same?

young oak

Besides the old oaks, there are also young trees in my yard. This is one.

I don't know why I keep trying to come up with labels for myself. Even if I am lazy, calling it that isn't going to change anything. I do what I do, at my own speed in my own time. I have no ambition that tugs at me more strongly than to slide through the day at a comfortable pace. I'm so grateful to be able to set that pace on my own, instead of having artificial expectations imposed on me. If I won't let others make me feel bad about myself, why should I overanalyze my own actions? Guilt is always internal and usually pointless and often destructive. Which is not to say I won't give in to it again and again.

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