Who sets the work list? o wait...me.

It's five below zero, and I hate to have the oil heat running, but my goodness, the floors are cold. The last thing we'd need is to have pipes freezing. So-- I grin and bear it for a little bit, and I have the pellet stove cranking along as well. I'm not all that enamored of having to go out into the cold in a couple of hours, but I think the temps will warm up a little when the sun decides to make an appearance. I need to go to the grocery store. I normally go on Saturdays, but with the little luxury of having some flexible time due to being on break from school, I can go this morning and (I hope) avoid the usual weekend rush of both locals and tourists (ski season...woot). 

Grocery shopping is not my favorite chore, but it has to be done. I've tried (and still sometimes use) the Instacart option, when I'm pressed for time or if there's something I actually need from the chain grocery store that I dislike going into. But it's an imperfect and inconsistent system, so I try not to use it. I much prefer the Coop: it's smaller, the food is better, and the people are nice. That works for me; I may as well go where I'm known and appreciated if I have to do a boring/tedious chore. 

That all said, I don't need a lot of stuff, thankfully-- I did a big shopping last week to stock up on holiday foods, so it's just basics this go-round. I should also swing through the drive-through at the bank, too. At least the car will get warmed up. 

I have a few more days of "freedom" and I am grateful. While I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to fully retire, I see its allure, and I hope that I'll be able to at least arrange my days in such a way that I'm not rushing about. Fifty eight is not old, chronologically, but I feel like it sometimes. Okay, much of the time. I think what I don't like about aging is the need to slow down; I used to be able to.... (fill in the blank) becomes a regret. I need to flip that narrative and embrace a slightly saner pace. I suspect that it's some weird residual guilt about taking some time to myself, or taking more time than I used to in order to complete tasks. My mother liked to use guilt and shame as a motivator, and I can still hear her saying such things as "I'm twice your age and I can run rings around you!" She was a good one for directing other people's activity and judging productivity. "Find something to do or I'll find it for you" certainly runs in my blood. To sit and read was (and is) a pleasure that is overlaid with a sense of guilt. I know, I know... it's all false. But when a child has heard it long enough, it becomes part of the whole ethos that they draw from for life. 

Yesterday, I did precious little. I'm okay with it. I mean, I'm old enough to call my own shots, right? And my husband is quick to remind me that no one is keeping track, and I really don't answer to anyone else. It's unfortunate that I can't just sit and daydream like I wanted to when I was a young person. I used to hide a book under the mountain of laundry that needed to be folded, so when I was not being watched, I'd read instead. Yes, I got caught frequently. That was never a good scene. I'm still working on it, working on me. 

So, enough about my chores and musings thereon. I am still in my flannel nightgown, I have my coffee, and I'm not going to rush anything. At least, not for another hour. 

So there. 

Have a good day,

C