missile annie

The current of hit parade of Things I Know I Need To Do But Can't Yet Really Get Tremendously Excited About Actually Doing:

-- redesign this blog to take better advantage of the damned three-column layout it took me three years to find in the first place

-- clean the office. If you loaded the contents of a cluttered home office into the back of a dump truck and then poured those contents through a window into a slightly smaller office, you might start to approximate my current work environment.

-- paint and install a set of bi-fold closet doors into my daughter's bedroom

-- haul away the huge slab doors removed from my daughters bedroom and now leaning against the wall in the dining room

-- write the THREE overdue post-game reports for my Minor 10s little league team.

-- mow the yard and weed the beds. I might well have pockets of Japanese in there who do not know that Gilligan's Island has been off the air for decades.

-- Dust. Most rooms in our house have enough dust that if we were of a mind to we could easily recreate Neal Armstrong's footprint on any horizontal surface, including the dog's ass.

-- plan my castle onslaught

-- prep the agenda for this weekend's Spring Campout for my Cub Scouts pack (yes-- in a weirdly amusing twist, I am the CubMaster for a Pack of something like 83 boys, and the parents there all think I am the goofy and loud-voiced Nice Guy who is so great with kids. If ever they tracked onto my blog or found various other online haunts of mine I'd likely get concerned stares at best and restraining orders in any normal likelihood.)

-- clean the kitchen (which seems ironic, since I can hardly remember the last three times the room has actually been used for food prep... life has been so hectic that most all local drivethru windows now just hand us a bag when we approach-- "we saw you coming. Here's your regular order."

-- WRITE. I have at least FIVE scripts in various stages of development on my desk, including two COMPLETED scripts which have been sitting there patiently waiting that day when I might give a crap again and start the much-needed Page One Rewrites they require and deserve.

-- Haircut. I'm now entering that "week past when a haircut was really needed" and the old 'do is starting to hyper-inflate like the Universe some 1.2 milliseconds after the Big Bang. CERN called and wants to measure the Higgs particles swirling in my scalp. And trust me-- that was a funny particle physics joke.

-- Relax. I can feel myself starting to get over-tight from having run at full max throttle for an extended period. On the one hand, you get used to every day being another GO GO GO proposition, but on the other you can become so goal-focused that you lose sight of the larger campaign. WHY are we charging hard every day? What's the POINT in achieving these goals with homicidal fury and clear intent? Progress without purpose can become mere motion. There must be a context to all things, and in the absence of such all action can decay into mere activity. As I am not a fan of mere activity, this is a point of concern, and this last item thus becomes one of the only ones which truly concerns me right now. Time to throttle down for maybe an hour and take accurate starshots to see where the hell we are relative to where the hell we were hoping to be, and then make course corrections as needed.

Alternatively, a two-day drunk would pretty feel good, too.
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