Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Thinkin' again...

Contemplative day. Listening to a lot of Rehab. Although I don't worship the porcelain Gods, I think the underlying angst is the same.

Between mopin' around like a fourteen year old I need to:
-Build up the new bed.
-Plant pepper plants.
-Plant watermelon plants.
-Sweep up giant piles of dog hair.
-Mop defurred floors.
-Repaint ceiling where water leaked through durin' the great flood of '11.
-Put a giant pile of shit next to the road with a 'FREE' sign on it.
-Water the beans.

I can do this. Right? Right.

Edit: All in all, not too shabby. I didn't mop or get rid of stuff but I did transplant some parsley, wash and hang a load of laundry, and cook and eat dinner with Jacob. And make homemade frozen yogurt with fresh blueberries. =D

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Rhythms of Life

It is remarkable to me how different the rhythm of my life is now than it was two or three years ago.

A few years ago I lived alone (or with a roommate) with a big solitary dog named Murphy. I had literally nothing that needed done in my life at a specific time.

Murphy required very little attention. He grazed on his food, he would let me know when he needed out, he basically required ten minutes a day of upkeep. (Pets aside. He was a whore for the pets.)

I ate healthy, but like a bachelor. Lots of easy-to-grab fruits, veggies, granola bars, and microwave pasta meals.

On the days I didn't have school you would likely see me slowly meander out of bed, find a granola bar, read some web comics. Maybe, MAYBE, do something productive like let Murphy out. If he asked.

I woke up this morning and immediately let Prophet and Odin out. I then took two seconds to let myself pee before:
      Putting on boots and a sweater. (Rain.)
            Going outside with the dogs.
                  Opening up the chicken coop so the chickens have run of the yard.
                       Turning on the light to the coop.
                            Refilling the chicken's food and water.
                                  Throwing some of the chicken poop on plants that need it.
                                       Pulling off the wet chickeny boots and sweater.
                                            Bringing the dogs inside and feeding them.
                                                 Making Jacob and my bed.
                                                      Taking the dogs back outside to poop.
                                                           Making myself a plate of food.
                                                                 Taking the dogs back outside to poop, again.
What a different pace. The astonishing thing is that I am not doing dramatically less, overall. Instead I am fitting more in the same amount of time. Instead of wasting the first thirty minutes of each day waking up, I am spending it doing the things in my life that really need attention.

Being an adult... Still weird.