Yesterday my horoscope said something to the effect that I should stop being so determined and dogged and take the day off to do nothing. Did I listen? Of course not. I had it in my head that I had to pull everything out of my office closet, build shelves in there, and paint the whole thing so that next weekend I can paint the office itself (and build more shelves and put in the new desk and lighting — a whole trading spaces makeover). Now is there any actual schedule here? Any schedule, that is, other than the one in my head that says now is the time? Of course not.
But did that stop me? Did my total exhaustion stop me? Did I not spend the day swearing under my breath while cutting shelves from plywood, sanding them, painting them, cutting brackets from pieces of 1×2, screwing them into the closet wall, painting the horrible old-dirty-apricot interior of the closet a nice clean shiny white? Did my grumpiness, which I should know better than to ignore, because it usually means I’m not paying attention as closely as I should because I don’t actually want to be doing the task in front of me, stop me? No. No no no no no.
Should I have listened to my horoscope. Yes.
Because at the end of the day, the shelves are all an inch too short. They won’t work. I have to do them again.
So today I cleaned up all the construction and decided the most ambitious thing I’m doing is making some borscht (how hard is that? boil beets, potatoes, onions and a little garlic, then puree. Add sour cream. Borscht.) Oh, and I might finally read Seabiscuit because I saw the movie last night — and despite the fact that there is far too much of the human story and not nearly enough horse, it’s still pretty good if you like sappy horse movies.