This weekend will be a full and productive weekend.
This weekend I will:
Finish the laundry I have been intending to do since returning from Portland. Three weeks ago.
Do the yoga I intended to do when I left my mat out on the floor (admittedly now covered in laundry).
Go grocery shopping as to avoid smoothie survival off semi-rotten frozen discounted fruit in freezer as per this week.
Replenish fruit in freezer.
Finish my LAST PAPER FOR MY (current) MASTERS. Really. Write the whole darn thing.
Finish my taxes. For the last five years.
Wash the bathroom floor.
Call my grandmother.
Read at least one more chapter of Salman Rushdie’s the ground beneath her feet before I forget the characters names (again).
Go for a walk.
Take at least one long hot shower.
This list would have been happily continued, except it is already exceeding katiclops limits. It feels so great writing lists, like you have really accomplished something. Ha! See world! Making progress already…the first step to accomplishing things is to acknowledge that things must be accomplished! Funny how it’s missing the imperative weekend “catch on sleep abstained from since prior weekend…” Perhaps it’s an indication this insomnia is planning on sticking around….
The cherry blossoms are just starting to come out in Vancouver, and it smells amazing. There aren’t really any where I live, or where I work for that matter. Our streets are lined with broad leaf maple , which are starting to bud, and our feet with crocuses in the community reclaimed curb gardens, which are just started to peek their heads up out of the winter grass. The willows by the park never lost their leaves. But tonight I was in the West End and it smelled divine. It’s like their neighbourhood missed the memo that decorating exclusively in flowers is not allowed. That it flaunts affluence, safety and oblivion. That it’s a little guache to use that much pastel. The whole street was encompassed in a giant pink cloud of cotton candy or some type of delicious smelling snow and the wind (which at this point at subsided to kittenly) was making all of the branches bounce almost jovially. Serious spring in your step. Here because it is night time, I can not see outside, but the wind chime and lack of sirens tonight seem to sing the sweet song of July.