Plans, Scheming, and Yoda

Oh, lists, my true love.

Okay, y'all. I need to make a Plan. My queue of books is getting so out of hand that it's starting to give me lip. And let me tell you, an uppity queue of books is a singular oddity you never want to witness. Enduring smack talk from inanimate objects is humiliating at best, not to mention vaguely concerning. Much like weaving the disparate threads of a plot together, I need to plan out the course of several competing threads within my life, so that none of them end up strangling me in my sleep. I need to delineate the tasks within my Teacher thread, and my Writer thread, and my Planning-a-Wedding-That-Is-Only-Three-Months-Away thread. (I am superlatively thankful that we're keeping things simple.) This is where the Plan becomes necessary for SURVIVAL. (No, not THAT plan. I'm not trying to get anyone out of detention here, y'all.)

You see, if I don't make a conscious plan for how I will spend my time each day or each week regarding these goals, I will simply lose my day watching things like Top Chef marathons. Trust me. This happens. A lot. With a frequency that I'm ashamed to own up to. Without a deliberate goal to accomplish, I just let time flow past me, never to return. And this go-with-the-flow, inertia-imprisoned lifestyle is so much worse in the winter. *glares at the lack of daylight* I just want to be a lump on the couch and gorge myself on the televised equivalent of junk food. I have no desire for substance during winter. I want cotton candy fluff. I just want it to melt on my tongue. Chewing would be asking too much, apparently.

But NO MORE. I will throw off the shackles of my own lethargy, and I will STAY AWAKE while reading. Hopefully. Because, you see, gentle readers, if you don't carve out time to write or to read or to do whatever it is that you beautiful people do that makes your soul shimmy with delight, time will unhelpfully and inconsiderately keep marching forward. None of us really "have" the time to do the things we love. Time isn't going to miraculously fall into our laps. We have to be intentional. Being intentional, however, can be really, really hard. Especially when all we want to do is ooze into an armchair and turn off our brains.

I'll make a deal with you, gentle readers. Before next Friday, I vow, here and now, that I will finish the book that I'm currently reading, and I will report back with a review. I want to encourage and challenge you to do the same. Pick something you've been meaning to do or finish and try to accomplish that goal by next Friday. We'll meet back here and report our successes. Just remember to pick a goal that can be completed in a week. Be realistic.

Okay, the potential of public shame is now hanging over my head. NO EXCUSES. I'll take my inspiration from that tiny green Superball of a Jedi. There is no try.

Like Donkey Kong.