As I laid out the fabric on the floor to correct the hem length, I had to stop and ask myself, what are you doing?
When I was driving home from the library, I’d made a list of things to do in my head. Review the pediatrics notecards one more time. Memorize the lab values for the Cardiac quiz. Read Units 6 and 7 for public health. And so on. I knew I had a limited amount of time until Marie, my classmate-turned-personal trainer,* called me to tell me it was time to go workout.*
Here’s what I did when I got home:
I walked in the door and sorted through the mail. Then I let Scout outside. Then I decided I was going to do the dishes. So naturally, I walked over to the dining room to eyeball the giant piles of laundry that had accumulated there since going through mom’s closet. I then found the plant that I bought yesterday, so I decided I’d better plant that. I went back to the porch, grabbed the empty pot, and then went to the back porch where the soil was. Of course I don’t keep the pots and the soil in the same place. That would be outrageous.
Once I got that plant potted, along with some Ivy I’ve been rooting, I decided to put the new plant in the kitchen window sill. Except that meant I had to do some rearranging. And it also meant that I had to be reminded about how dirty the dishes were.
While I was standing there making microscopic, not noticeable to any human other than me adjustments to the plant location, I realized that it would be cute if I hung my white ceramic decorative spoons in the window somehow. Which lead me to think about how much that window could use a window dressing.
So then, before I knew what I was doing, I had pulled all (and I do mean ALL) of my sewing crap out of the closet and was hemming up a carefully selected, but not-so-carefully prepared, kitchen window curtain. A curtain sewn so haphazzardly and without so much as a measuring tape or a pin, that when I hung it from the rod, I realized that the right side was a full FOUR INCHES longer than the left side.
FOUR INCHES. So much for my ‘eyeballing it’ skills.
That’s when I got a text message from Marie that snapped me back to reality. I’d been home for an hour and a half and I had done absolutely NONE of the things that were on my to-do list. I had simply created a different, much more fun to-do list and tackled it with a gale force gusto.
She said, “Come get me in 20 minutes?” Twenty minutes, I thought. Sweet. Just enough time to finish the curtain. I did finish it. I hung it in the window only to decide that I wasn’t really keen on the way it looked. So I took the whole thing to the bathroom, and hung it in the bathroom window.
Then I went to the bedroom, changed my now-wet socks for dry ones, (the window is next to the tub, and the tub was not dry), threw on my tennis shoes and went to pick up Marie.
It’s been 4.5 hours since that happened, and I still haven’t done anything on my to-do list other than work out.
All this to say: when Zack didn’t believe me that I had ADD, I was like HOW CAN YOU NOT THINK I HAVE ADD? Cause seriously. I obviously have a problem.
*And by “personal trainer” I mean “evil torturer.”
*And by “workout” she meant “see if I can kill you.”