Before my last surgery, I had recently reupped my dependence on Diet Coke. I became really high-maintenance about it, too. I not only needed the drink more than once a day, but it had to be in foam instead of plastic and with extra ice. Streptopacalypse and Cancer:Part 2013 did away with my appetite for pretty much everything for a while, including the cold, dark demon of caramel coloring and aspartame. I eased back in and have one occasionally. It’s no longer the only thing I’ll drink. But the ice is a must.
I once had a list for my day about as specific as that list for my Diet Coke. It was some energetic season in the year – the first of it, the fall of it, the beginning of something. And I made a checklist of all the things I determined to do each day. Things like praying, writing, playing piano. I wrote them all in my journal. And the next day, I gave a report. The day after that, the report was less than sparkling. That was the last day I tried.
Since then, I’ve never had a daily list – things I absolutely must do every single day. In spirit, yes. For instance, I adamantly pursue the one to “create every day,” which means to me that I will do something, anything, that exists because I put it there. I’m pretty sure I’ve counted creative thoughts as a complete, checked box for that goal, but the goal remains.
Lately, I find that my daily needs list is back. It created itself, and I feel it nudging me to focus. With the late summer hours and packed-full days, I way too often find myself stumbling into late evening with way too many things on the list not visited. I feel a little mad about it. As in, stark, raving. It frustrates me that those beautiful books I told you about last time still sit barely opened by my chair. I went online today to renew them, and was inexplicably satisfied as if the technical prowess it took to log in to my library account and renew the Books I Haven’t Read Yet accomplished something meaningful in my existence.
I fail miserably at evening productivity right now. And every night, it feels like things are missing. I didn’t write today. It’s been six months since I had a regular exercise routine. I feel like there were too many screens in my day and not enough cheeks and fingers and hugs. My beverage routine is much lower-maintenance now. And the checklist isn’t likely to work any better for me now than it did then. But I gotta figure out how, at least in spirit, the day can feel more like it had all the things. I was aware, I was grateful. I worked, I played. I created. I really saw you. We touched. And I am ready for tomorrow.
That’s the master plan. Let’s do it.
p.s. health update! Check-up yesterday revealed nothing new, nothing scary, #nocancertoday.