Bargaining With Myself

I snapped this picture in Old West Austin last month. The youth in the sculpture seems contemplative or, maybe, just sleepy.

I spend a lot of time inside my head. I think 'what should I do next?' and 'if I accomplish some task, what could I then do that's fun?' and 'how long am I going to sit here thinking instead of doing?'

Up this morning fairly early. It's Monday and the puzzles are generally easier and fun. It was chilly in the apartment. The thermostat said 70 degrees in the dining room and a thermometer in the bathroom said 71. It is freezing outside, though, and we have yet to turn on the heat. We watch our giant TV and it and the amp and satellite box and the computers in the office give off enough heat to keep the cold at bay. But the TV is off so I turn it on. (The temperature at the thermostat rises three degrees in the next few hours.) I am comfy in my sweatpants, long-sleeved Tshirt, and socks. I make coffee, copy the NY Times puzzle so my husband (FFP) can work it and settle into my chair to work the Ken-Ken and Crosswords and read anything that looks interesting in the Arts Section.  FFP points out an interesting article in the front page section of the Times about a gala in Houston in 1989 with John Connally, Trump and Nixon in attendance. So I read that and the whole front page section while eating some toast with butter, cheese and jelly; and a banana. The TV rattles on with stock indices and pundits talking about lower taxes, banks profiting from higher interest, etc.

I am trying to talk myself into cleaning. I need to post something for Holidailies, but what to write about? I read a few sections of older newspapers. I finally decide I will dust some shelves. Just half the shelves surrounding the bed I tell myself. I do get started on this. I hear FFP dusting and cleaning in the living room. Embarrassed by the small amount I've bargained with myself to do, I dust all the shelves in the bedroom and vacuum as well.

My reward for this small bit of cleaning? (Although in fairness I have to climb up and down the ladder to do it what with the 10-foot ceilings and the shelves or so crammed with books and art and artifacts and pictures that it is not trivial.) My reward is that I get to write this entry and have a snack and read some more papers.Meanwhile, I may be bargaining with myself to do some more cleaning or go across the hall to the gym.