Not Enough Hours in the Day

They flew by, the hours of Monday.  I did absolutely nothing that could be called productive, and yet, there they went

I started a new book, and put it down.  Afterparties was too melancholic, although fellow denizen, dkzody, and the book jacket called it heartwarming.  

I stared at the pantry for longer than usual.  It needs to be emptied, cleansed and refilled with that which is used.  But that requires going up on a ladder and handing things down. It's really a two person job, and neither Queen T nor Little Cuter, my two organizing mavens, is here to help.  I could ask TBG, but I fear his solution would be to shove it all back in after we wiped down the shelves with a damp cloth.  Unfortunately, it needs much more than that.

I considered stopping at Rillito.  My planters need freshening.  Unfortunately, the temperatures are still predicted to be very cold - too cold for nascent plants to sprout comfortably.  Plus, I wasn't in the mood to stand and bend.

I was going to make a lasagna for my MealTrain donation, and deliver it at 5pm.  At 3:30 I realized I had no ricotta nor cottage cheese.  Time had run out.

How is it possible that, doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, reading nothing, cleaning nothing, the entire day slipped by?  I read the local newspaper (hard copy) and the NYTimes and WaPo (virtually).  TBG and I had a drive-through date for lunch (note to self- Whoppers are much tastier when they are a once in a year treat, rather than every other week because we can't decide where else to go).  I napped.  I did crossword puzzles until my eyes crossed.

It was a lazy, unproductive day.  There weren't enough hours left to make a difference.  I stopped at a favorite take out place and brought the bereaved family a delicious dinner.  It was nice to feel that I accomplished something.

 (True to form, given yesterday's productivity level, this was written Tuesday morning.)