Big plans, little accomplishments

My plan for today was simple. Get up early, eat some oatmeal (traceable) with strawberries (local) and maple syrup (local), spend an hour outside moving some of the bricks piled in the yard from one spot to another (strengthening activity), then come inside to work on some freelance until noon. Eat lobster salad (local) for lunch with some arugula (local) and some cherries (traceable) for dessert.

Go back outside after lunch to move the bricks (strengthening activity) for another hour or so while listening to Adam Corolla read his book on my iPhone (mental break). Come inside, prep the ribs I bought at the market this weekend (local) to grill for supper and work on some more freelance to ship out tonight.

these bricks

Here's what happened (honesty). I was on track with breakfast. Oatmeal, check. Strawberries, check. Maple syrup, check. Then it all hit the slowly oscillating and ineffective fan.

need to go here

I went outside to move the bricks. Realized after a few loads I should have waited 20 minutes before jumping in the pool. I came inside to settle the cramp in my stomach and decided to read the news online. Got frustrated with the whole "vagina" debate. (That links to one of many articles.) Yes, what she said, albeit on point, was a bit inflammatory (not the word "vagina," but the flippant remark she was making). But, I do see her point. Having a transvaginal ultrasound is invasive and, if administered poorly, is akin to rape. Trust me. It's not comfortable, it's incredibly demoralizing, and the memory haunts in a very strange way.

Suddenly it was 9:00 in the morning. Shit. Okay. Went outside to move the bricks. What the F with this weather? Twenty minutes of sweat stung my eyes and holy crap was it hot out. Moved back inside. I'd been thinking about this "vagina" debate some more and was getting increasingly more frustrated. I then hopped onto Facebook to voice my opinion. Isn't that what everybody does these days? No? Whatever.

A little bit of freelance. More Facebook. A little bit of freelance. More Facebook.

Then... What was that box on the kitchen table? Looked like something delicious. I'm pretty sure my friends from the Stephen Tabor brought it to the house when they were down this weekend. I decided to have one.

Two.

Three.

Oops. It was nearly lunchtime. I ate my handful of traceable cherries, but never cracked the leftover lobster. Poured a bit of coffee (purchased locally) and some water. I was back in business. More freelance.

Took a break to check the mail, which was a 20-minute excursion because our road is now choked with people headed to Popham Beach, which made me remember it was too hot to move bricks, so I decided to take dog for a swim at the boat launch ramp, which would require no activity on my part, but would make him happy. I opened my computer to finish up a quick proofreading job and promptly fell asleep. For two hours.

I was awakened when Groom called to pull a total Darren Stephens by informing me he would be bringing his boss home for dinner. Actually, it was probably more like a Ricky Ricardo. Rather than coming home to a nicely set table with martinis chilling in the shaker, he would be far more likely to find me sitting in the middle of the kitchen covered in flour and sobbing hysterically while my best friend danced around me inexplicably playing a tuba. We would be eating out.

cocktails or not, the view is pretty nice

Prior to dinner, I had to run into town to purchase items for his fishing trip tomorrow. I went to Brackett's (local) to discover they don't have item number three on the list: drinkable yogurt. What...the....okay.

I headed off to Shaw's (not local) to buy an entire basket of not local items before rushing home for a shower before meeting Groom and his boss for dinner at Anna's Water's Edge (local) where, for some reason, we were not drinking cocktails, local or otherwise.

From the perspective of my new plan, today was a colossal failure. But, when you look at it as a typical summer day? A little time spent outside, a handful of delicious caramels, an impromptu afternoon nap, a nice dinner with interesting people for whom I was 100% alert and sober? Not bad. Tomorrow, however, I plan to try again. And tomorrow? We'd better have some damn cocktails with dinner.