best laid plans

The rain is fascinating, coming down in steady syncopation like a specially designed bathroom fixture. And I can't concentrate on what's in front of me. Singing the same song, indeed.

Erik and I are meeting after work at the fancy furniture store I went to by myself last weekend, on our perpetual quest for a couch that doesn't incite my sciatica and make me feel several decades older than I am. Then I tell myself that I'll have time for a little run to calm my mind, but it's mostly just a mental bribe. It's more than likely that it will take all of my time to prepare for our "Iron Chef" inspired cocktail competition party. The secret ingredient is chartreuse.

Tomorrow it's the farmers market, taking Julie's mom to the airport, a first birthday party, a free wire crochet class put on by the library that I certainly won't have time for, a vegan cooking DVD release event that I probably also won't have time for, perhaps a smidgen of yard work, and then a nice evening trying out a new restaurant and going to see a movie. I've finally learned to put my foot down (well, semi-down) and said no to another party on Saturday. Normally I'd say yes and try to show up, but it would be the fourth party in three days, and... not sure how to put this into words, but I'd be uncomfortable with the people there. They're nice people, but I don't know them, and there's no reason for me to. They're people I've met over and over again at similar parties, but have no other connection with. One could argue that the first party of the day is a similar situation, but it's one I can handle. Two in one day, I cannot.

Sunday I'll go for my customary long run, maybe go out for breakfast by myself, clean out my car (interior armor-all will make it last another decade for me), maybe make it to a different free craft class put on by the library, and hopefully spend most of the day in the garden planting things I've been meaning to plant for the past few months. MONTHS! Ye gods, as tightly as I schedule things, I have no self-discipline for follow-through.

My eyes suddenly opened the other day to the fact that I still haven't finished my hallway project from months ago. There is only one step left-- painting the edges (not the facing, that's already done) of the trim. It's already taped up, and has been for months. One step from being finished, after all of the tedious, tough tasks I busted my way through! Sometimes the harder I try to contain my scatterbrainedness, the more outrageous the outcome.

Same could be said of the #)($*#$()*@ sweater I'm about to finish. I started over from the beginning on it in autumn, I even blocked all of the pieces recently. But when it came time to sew it together, I was out of yarn and tried a different ball of a similar color. I did half of the seams on the RV trip last weekend, but seen in daylight it's a red sweater with screaming hot '70s era red-orange seams. Ouch. Hopefully I'll get around to ordering an extra ball of the original yarn, and finish the damn thing.

See? I'm still hopeful.