A Snag in the Fabric

Today is usually one of my free days. I only have one class, so I wake up at a reasonable hour and have the whole day to be productive. Unfortunately, that is never the reality. I think of all the wonderful things I want to do on a Tuesday (walk the dog, work on a drawing, free writing exercises, cleaning, homework), and then end up asleep somewhere. Often times my bed. With winter upon this midwestern state, movement beyond the bed becomes unpleasant due to cold.

Admittedly, I feel bad for the hound. Being a high energy German Shepherd who recently entered into a love affair with snow, being inside with a sleeping mom is never fun. He often times sleeps with me, then slowly starts to annoy me in hopes of a walk or frisbee. Don't worry, he usually wins. He's very persistent. And cute.

But my self-motivated activities are far less nagging. Finally, I did a bit of drawing. Not in my usual style either, which was surprising. This drawing inspired me to revisit my 101:1001 list. If you not possess one, you should. Mine can be found here. I am saddened at my lack of progress, especially on the easier tasks. How I have yet to buy a lottery ticket or complete a coloring book is beyond me.

My list features a lot of learning tasks, adventurous undertakings, and childish antics. Some may consider it odd to find burlesque class, kite flying, and cake decorating all on the same page, but yes, I am some mash-up of a exhibitionist, a child, and a 1950's housewife. Add old British woman, and you have the full package. How these things happen, I do not know.

Even though I have 740 days left to complete all my tasks, I still feel a race against the clock. When will I go sky diving? When will I shave my head? When will I make my own candles?! These are pressing questions of which I am sure we all ask ourselves.

I feel as though my life needs to be made in to list. My health problems have sucked the spontaneity out of my life. I no longer just sit in my basement and paint all day. I start to, but wake up on the orange shag carpeting three hours later with dried acrylic paint in my hair wondering what I was even attempting to work on. It's frustrating. Whenever there is something I would like to do, I need to add it to my daily list, lest I forget.

Who wants to live from lists? I do not want every moment of my life scheduled out to one activity or another. The fun is in the fantastical, and how can anything be fantastical when written in your day planner? "3 pm, Thursday: Make amazing mural." That does not excite me.

I find myself to be too particular. Perhaps I should be grateful that I have the time to do these things, or the will. Perhaps my wish for improvisation is more of an excuse for whimsy. And whimsy, I have more than enough of.

Hopefully, I will soon have an answer to my health problems, so that all the acrylic paint will end up on a canvas, rather than my hair.