Finally the digging out
can begin. No, not the snow; my spare
room/office.
I start the process on
Monday, but I have to stop in order to do two very important things: watch the
final two episodes of the mini-series Pride
and Prejudice for the umpteenth time (Colin Firth is the best damn Mr.
Darcy in the history of acting, and I’m not a Colin Firth fan) and shovel
another foot of snow that has fallen outside with no logical place to put it
all (except over the fence into the new neighbor’s yard when he’s not looking).
Tuesday school is
cancelled yet again. A delay would be
spectacular, but I’m stuck with another snow day. This means that I will be teaching until it’s
too hot to function normally; summer will leave me behind. This horrible
thought weighs on me much like the weight of the snow on the front door
overhang that I cannot reach, so it will probably fall down and kill me as I
try to open the door sometime before spring arrives.
Perhaps I can finish the
task I start Monday and truly get the spare room/office turned around. Sitting in one corner is a stack of sewing
that has been waiting for me forever. Blocking
the sewing machine are boxes of family pictures that relatives have been waiting
years to see. In the opposite corner
hides the remainder of my thesis that needs to get published somewhere,
somehow. Carefully tucked into a plastic
bin is a fat file full of half-completed manuscripts also waiting for closure. Meanwhile, hundreds of books sit on the
shelves, patiently beckoning me to read them.
Oh, I intend to get the spare
room/office done, that is until I remember that I need to print out tax
information and paycheck stubs and college payments I made in 2014 to finish
that damnable thesis in the first place.
I do use my evening wisely gathering this important documentation. I do get the Christmas file folder organized,
and the two drawers of holiday tags, bags, and leftover miscellany completely
redone.
The bed in the spare
room/office is almost cleared off to be made up with fresh linens. I could do that right now if it weren’t for
my sudden lack of motivation. Well, that
and a sudden hot flash, so I need to relax in front of the fan for a few
minutes. Part of me is afraid if I make
up the bed right now, I might crawl into it and hide under the covers until the
weather changes (if it ever does).
Truly, it’s not so bad. I can walk through the room, and, if company
were to come, it could be snapped back into shape in very little time. If I were to die suddenly (I would be
shocked, saddened, and quite miserable), at least the files and books and
Christmas gift tags are organized enough not to confuse my heirs.
This digging out stuff isn’t
so bad, but, like the driveway full of snow outside, it must be done, and it
must be done before it blocks me in and prevents me from progressing. So, Tuesday, you damn snow day, this digging
out is for you and my spare room/office.
As long as I don’t find another mini-series on television that I have to
watch right this moment, we might be able to make it through without killing
each other.
