You know, the sort of day where you have the best of intentions, you get up ready to start attacking the agenda you’ve told yourself you’re finally going to sit down and get on with.
The same set of words you’ve been using to fire up the enthusiasm you really don’t feel much of the time, but this time, have worked yourself into a high degree of positivity just before going to bed.
Everything is set up. All you have to do is bound out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to go.
That was the first mistake. You went to be very late, around 2 am, and when you woke up, it feels like death warmed up. No bright eyes, and definitely no bushy tail.
But, there’s work to be done.
Before that, there’s other stuff, and as each succeeding chore is down, the less enthusiasm feels. I have to clean up the dining room, which, at the moment, is the go-to for all the tools, paint, tile glue, tiles, and everything that’s being used in the latest round of renovations.
Frankly, the room is a mess. I can move a lot of the tools out to the shed now that I’ve finished with them, and the rest, a few pain brushes and the tiling equipment, we be used over the next week.
An hour and a half later, the room is now clean.
I go out to the writing room and look at the list. Good thing I’d didn’t put a time against anything, because if I have, I was now looking at being at least four hours behind.
A phone call made that timeline worse. People always call when you don’t need any calls to distract you. It’s one of the reasons why I have seriously considered getting the landline cut off. And if it wasn’t for the grandchildren, who know they can call on that line, with a number that’s easier to remember than a mobile, I would.
But that of course leaves me open to the half dozen scam calls a day, trying to sell cladding, and solar panels, defend myself from a car crash that I never had, fend off illicit charges from Telcos, and now Amazon. Not forgetting my friend from the NBN who rings once, sometimes twice a day telling me my internet is about to be cut off.
To be honest, I wish they would, but as much as I tell them to cut it off they never do, perhaps knowing that if they do, they can’t scam call me anymore.
By the time I get back to my office, it’s time for a cup of tea.
Or something stronger.
The morning has gone, and the afternoon is half over, and all I’ve done is look at the list.
And since blog posts are on the list, this is why I’m writing this whinge.
How is your day going? I hope it’s better than mine.