Sunday night, you know what I mean? One of the first things you think as Sunday morning rolls around, is how quickly the weekend goes by…there are times when I know I’ve blown it for the weekend…I absolutely refuse to review the list of tasks I made last Friday, while at work. I may as well make the same list from week to week, considering how much I actually plan and get done. It may as well be wishful thinking.
Occasionally, I actually make a concerted effort to whittle down that list and by Saturday night, I know I’ve made progress…Sunday is not the day to ‘decide’ I’m going to research SEO! Sunday is the day to feel great about your accomplishments or failures - failures means you’ve tried. Sunday is the day you determine your next course of action, whether your “master plan” is falling into place or is a bust.
This weekend, I got around to working on one of my “River Rock” series pastels. In full disclosure, the list of projects is more extensive than a couple hours (TOPS) squeezed in between loads of laundry and grocery shopping.
This weekend, I came to realize that my 7 day habit started long before I realized it was so. I come from a family of people who never took a sabbath. Mom cooking Sunday morning and afternoon, dad finding someone with a broken down car or something to fix, somewhere. An aunt, who, by 3:30 pm on a Sunday, was on her way to work until midnight and cousins, as soon as they were old enough, skipped church to work their part time job. So at this point, while it feels ‘normal’ to have something to do every day, I have enough resistance to realize there’s something wrong with never having down time. Juxtapose that against the need to sit quietly in an activity that everyone around me still considers a hobby…yeah, this plebeian, working class mentality, that views their life as nothing more than mundane and plain…it haunts me…
* Back to work, after working the whole weekend
* Artist, with little time to be (what about the “higher purpose” of it all)
* Endless list of tasks, both mundane and devoted
* The endless musing, the wondering if any of ‘this’ makes sense
My inventory list looks like the clutter one shuts up in an old, unused bedroom…what about yours?