Making a list

Yesterday I was standing in a window with sexy cat head on, absently squeezing an inflatable dalmation and talking with my accountant about the work I need to do in my flat. My accountant is grumpy bear. She was holding a love ball and dancing.

“Have you made a list of all the things you need to do?” asked grumpy bear. She’s been waiting for me to send her a breakdown of income and expenditure for about six months now, plus she wanted all of next years tax stuff sent to her by CSV months ago. She’s tired of chasing me now. She knows how scattered sexy cat can get. If it’s pratting around in a window that sexy cat has to do then he’s there with knobs on. If it’s something that involves a bit of work and will have a direct impact on his well being then he’ll try and put it off in favour of looking for more FISH. “No,” I tell her, and scratch my ear. No I haven’t made a list of things I need to do. Making that list – that’s one of the things I need to do. But it’s not on the list, you see.

This evening, instead of writing that list of things I need to do, I’m writing a blog about how I haven’t written a list of things I need to do. Once the blog is finished, I’ll read my book, drink my camomile tea, and go to sleep without having written the list of things I need to do. Maybe I’ll tell myself I’ll write the list tomorrow. Maybe I WILL write the list tomorrow – stranger things have happened. Chances are though, tomorrow I’ll just do something that it occurs to me to do, then I’ll get distracted. I’ll not write the list, I’ll decide I’ll probably write the list tomorrow.

But not if I write this you see. Cunning. I’m making myself accountable. Now I’ll feel guilty if I don’t write the list. Finishing the list will be the first thing I put on it I might even pin it on a wall somewhere.

Today I’ve been eBaying. It’s a useful discipline, as there’s still too much stuff in the flat. The day ran away and the sun set before I realised that I hadn’t left the house at all. I’m hoping for good weather tomorrow instead, as I’ve got some writing to do which I can do outside in the Physic Garden so long as it isn’t freezing.

So much to do. I need another few months where there’s literally fuck all happening. Lucky me.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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