Done and To Do
Things I have accomplished in the 90 minutes since arriving home at 10:50 pm, in chronological order:
1. Cut fingernails.
2. Ate banana split (with nonfat frozen yogurt).
3. Finished reading today's Washington Post (simultaneous with #2).
4. Read "Savage Love" column in Washington City Paper.
5. Put Washington City Paper in recycling.
6. Watered and misted plants.
7. Did load of wash.
8. Vacuumed apartment.
9. Read last week's New Yorker.
10. Blogged for first time since Wednesday night (technically, Thursday morning).
Things whose undoneness can be measured in weeks, in no particular order:
1. Clean oven (can of Easy-Off sitting on kitchen counter as burdensome reminder).
2. Glue handle on favorite Italian ceramic mug from Biordi Art Imports in San Francisco (at least until the next time I go to San Francisco; last time I was there, I replaced an identical mug that had broken). Also sitting on kitchen counter as burdensome reminder.
3. Do taxes.
4. Call my pregnant friend Holly to see how she's doing since I last saw her in December (this technically shouldn't be on the list, at least not in that form, as I found out last Friday that she had her baby on Wednesday, so sending her a baby card is at the top of a separate list of things to do that can't -- yet -- be measured in weeks).
5. Straighten pictures on bedroom wall of me and my friends Sarah and Richard at Crystal Grottoes Caverns in 1995, which have come loose from the mat. (Make this one months.)
6. Pick up Seabiscuit: An American Legend and Ball of Fire: The Tumultuous Life and Comic Art of Lucille Ball (among others) from pile on dining room floor and read them. (Inspiration for biography project; shhhh -- it's a secret.)
7. Get tattoo. (Months. Does this more properly belong on fantasy list?)
8. Start taking homemade lunches to work to save money and increase lunchtime enjoyment.
9. Replace silver hoop that barber accidentally pulled off my ear and lost when splashing me with bracing aftershave (silver stud currently acting as understudy).
10. Buy new socks for work that don't have holes in toes.
1. Cut fingernails.
2. Ate banana split (with nonfat frozen yogurt).
3. Finished reading today's Washington Post (simultaneous with #2).
4. Read "Savage Love" column in Washington City Paper.
5. Put Washington City Paper in recycling.
6. Watered and misted plants.
7. Did load of wash.
8. Vacuumed apartment.
9. Read last week's New Yorker.
10. Blogged for first time since Wednesday night (technically, Thursday morning).
Things whose undoneness can be measured in weeks, in no particular order:
1. Clean oven (can of Easy-Off sitting on kitchen counter as burdensome reminder).
2. Glue handle on favorite Italian ceramic mug from Biordi Art Imports in San Francisco (at least until the next time I go to San Francisco; last time I was there, I replaced an identical mug that had broken). Also sitting on kitchen counter as burdensome reminder.
3. Do taxes.
4. Call my pregnant friend Holly to see how she's doing since I last saw her in December (this technically shouldn't be on the list, at least not in that form, as I found out last Friday that she had her baby on Wednesday, so sending her a baby card is at the top of a separate list of things to do that can't -- yet -- be measured in weeks).
5. Straighten pictures on bedroom wall of me and my friends Sarah and Richard at Crystal Grottoes Caverns in 1995, which have come loose from the mat. (Make this one months.)
6. Pick up Seabiscuit: An American Legend and Ball of Fire: The Tumultuous Life and Comic Art of Lucille Ball (among others) from pile on dining room floor and read them. (Inspiration for biography project; shhhh -- it's a secret.)
7. Get tattoo. (Months. Does this more properly belong on fantasy list?)
8. Start taking homemade lunches to work to save money and increase lunchtime enjoyment.
9. Replace silver hoop that barber accidentally pulled off my ear and lost when splashing me with bracing aftershave (silver stud currently acting as understudy).
10. Buy new socks for work that don't have holes in toes.
posted by Billy at 12:20 AM
7 Comments:
everyone needs a silver stud understudy. where's mine?
OUCH! did the barber rip through the flesh when he pulled the earring off? i'm feeling faint at the thought. AND i hate socks with holes! very irksome!
No, I didn't even notice it was missing till I left the barber, but I do know I had it on when I went in. I remember thinking as his alcohol-drenched hands swept over my ears, "Careful with the earring," but I didn't say anything.
the toe! the toe! I guess the picture didn't load the last time I looked at this.
AUGH!
I was wondering why you had no comment on that! Just my little gift to you. ;)
Don't get inked--then you can't donate blood, or whatever, for like a year...and if you do, please no barb-wire spikes around the bicep---pulllleezzze.
L.
Can't donate blood anyway cuz I'm a big fat homo.
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