I'll get on a schedule!

I wake up remembering a dream about being in jail. Actually, it's one of those dreams where the things seem to be happening to you but it's not you. Or else someone else is in a similar situation. There is a tall, handsome man sorting through some good clothes. He is worried about being incarcerated.

I get up and get off to the club at a fairly reasonable time. So that, I'm back well before lunch. I do 45+ minutes on the exercise bike. I do all my upper body machines and weights except one because someone is using it when I walk by it. I'm easily deterred. But it's OK. I am getting a little more muscle under my flab. Really. Not so outsiders could notice but I do.

I decide that I want a baked potato for lunch. I'd like some sunflower sprouts to go on it. But I stop at Randall's and they never have them. So I buy tortilla chips, a grapefruit, broccoli crowns, green onions (can't have too many of those), bacon (I'm thinking BLTs some time this weekend), green leaf lettuce (those BLTs), some sacks of spinach, a lime (I've been intending to try this drink recipe, you see).

Even though I get home before noon, there are distractions. Have another cup of coffee, move some stuff around, let the dog out.

So I make the baked potato. I put cheese (two kinds), nonfat yogurt, chopped broccoli and choppped green onions on it. I'm stuffed after that.

I'm determined to get into some of my tasks. I call my dad. He's still sick but doing much better. He got out to pick up laundered shirts at the cleaners and discovered that it was Friday. He thought it was Thursday. I call my aunt in Mesquite. (Her winter home, Maine is her summer home.) She tells me the trials and tribulations of her husband's pacemaker wars. They may put a different one in next week.

I keep looking at the clock and saying, OK, I'm doing this for the next hour. But then I have to get some coffee or the dog looks like she wants out or FFP says, "Did you get the clothes out of the dryer?"

"I didn't know there were clothes in the dryer." (To me, if you do a chore, do it. Or, at least, say 'Would you get....'. I don't say anything else. He gets them and then says, "The clothes are on the bed if you want to fold them." It's easier to do it than argue about being interrupted on someone else's schedule.) Then the mail comes which FFP has been looking for so I sort that and take it upstairs. And other people's interruptions are nothing...my brain keeps interrupting itself. That's my big problem. I'm looking for a scapegoat for the interruptions that are keeping me from doing, um, I don't even know what I really want to be doing. Having said that, I love retirement. At its worst it is a thousand times better than the frustrations of a corporate job. And I'll figure out how to be productive in my leisure. I really will.

I do start on one of my writing projects. The draft isn't any good but I am pulling words onto paper, finding reference notes and materials. It's a good exercise.

Then it's time to get cleaned up for the ballet.