Quickly list five things you’d like to change in your life. Now, write a post about a day in your life once all five have been crossed off your to-do list.
Well, this is depressing. On a beautiful Saturday morning, WordPress wants me to list five changes I’d like to make in my life. Sounds too much like New Year’s Resolutions, but oh well, here goes:
1. Lose the weight
2. Get in better shape
3. Finish my book
4. Finish my daughter-in-law’s quilt
5. Downsize all our stuff
Now, the story:
Linda woke up early, stretched, allowed herself a couple of minutes to feel the luxury of her comfortable bed, and the pristine condition of her bedroom. No clutter. No dust. Nothing left out to be put away the next day. Heavenly.
She sprang out of bed, slipped into her two-sizes-smaller sneakers (you do lose weight in your feet, too, you know) and pulled on her incredibly tiny jeans and tee. A quick stop in the study for her iPod Shuffle, and she was out the door on her daily five-mile walk. It was a glorious morning, cool and crisp, and it felt marvelous to stretch out the kinks and feel the road hitting her shoes. At 68, she felt better than she had in years. Her blood sugar was completely under control, no more diabetes. All the other Syndrome X symptoms were gone, too, oh frabjous day!
Today was the day she would send the final edits back to her publisher on the book she had labored over for so many years. The next one was going to be written much faster. Much. It was so exciting to know that within the year her first book would be out. Maybe no one would buy it, but at that moment she didn’t even care. Just to have it done was such a victory!
Finishing her five-mile-circuit, Linda paused to enjoy her pretty yard. Summer flowers were still strong and healthy, and in the crisp air of September, they glowed as if they were plugged into an electrical socket. Fall was undoubtedly the best season of the year.
Her other task at the post office today would be to mail the quilt she had finally finished off to Germany. Janan had been patiently waiting for way too many years. The quilt had been sidelined when Linda went to work after finishing her master’s degree, and somehow it had just never found its way to the top of the priority list. That was over. The quilt was done.
And the house was decluttered, with no piles or stacks; no boxes of forgotten stuff sitting in attic or basement; no vast collections of “someday” fabrics, yarns, and patterns on her side of the basement. On Terry’s side, there were still boxes and bins and jars of nuts, bolts, washers, screws and obscure jumble, but she closed her eyes to it. Nothing she could do there.
All in all, it had been a successful and satisfying year.
The alarm went off. Rats.