Todayís last-minute change in plans led me to do what Iíd intended to do all along, right up until the time it was time to do it. Then I decided not to, until at the raindrops on my paving stones shifted me back in the other direction. At the last minute.
The point is, I should never plan to do anything on a Monday, because Mondays never turn out the way I think they will (except when I think theyíll turn out to be stressful and chaotic). One of the reasons I worked all afternoon yesterday was so I could write my own paycheck, so I take it to the bank this morning, so I could get my rent check in the mail and pick up a few groceries, so I wouldnít have to eat the same thing as last night for another two or three nights.
Then came the revisionism. So what if I eat the same thing? Itís going to kill me? And why should I worry about getting the rent check in the mail today, three days before itís even due? MaŮana, baby. So I didnít really need to go to the bank at all. The one thing I needed to do was gas up my car, because that was my main reason for staying home all weekend. (Okay, my main excuse. My reason was that I wanted to.)
So when I left for my morning errands, it was with the intention of going to the post office and back on the few liters of fuel I had left. And then I walked out the door. And then I saw the raindrops hitting the paving stones. And then I turned around, went back in the house, put on a jacket and picked up my paycheck and my grocery list. I thought, what if itís really raining by this time tomorrow? Wouldnít I be sorry I didnít take care of all these things today?
I got it all done, and I have to admit I feel a lot better about the world in general with a full tank of gas. And a refrigerator full of groceries. As for the rent, well, that could have waited. But itís done.