Hello, Peaches and Kramers,
I sure missed you last weekend—yours are among the only unannounced (merry) pop-ins that inspire my thoughts to fall into place.
And, I’m ceaselessly grateful that, for reasons known only to you,
you appreciate that nothing’s surface-simple with me.
After all, you were so kind when I confessed that I sometimes relegate housework to the doghouse (there’s much more hiding room there than under the counter-cupboards…and in the oven.)
However, last weekend—
instead of expecting me, myself, and I to get on (chopping) board with a major sprucing spree—
I promised that, if me did 5 minutes of cleaning, I could call myself a hero.
So, lulled into a false sense of laziness, I picked my battle and—
once I cleared the cups, bruised bananas, battery, paper clips, and pens—
this counter off-er did the trick…
I tackled most everything else.
But, in the time it took to de-clutter my home, inspiration eloped with motivation and I couldn’t get my mind write.
And, speaking of counter offers, here’s another eye-opener…
Super thirsty last night, I went to sleep with three things on my mind—and was driven to wakefulness by a “Constant Craving” for orange Juice (Newton), Cranberry(s) juice, and ginger (Spice) ale.
“I wrote a (post) about it—wanna hear it, here it go…”
As this week unfolded (“Ow, my aching joints!”), I clung to the knowing that I could sleep-in Saturday morning…
Well, here’s Saturday, so much earlier than I was hoping; for,
early to bed and too lazy to go back downstairs for the aforementioned drink (which also would’ve necessitated waking, mid-night, to go to the washroom),
morning thirst ran out on waiting’s spell…
And, finding she’d been jilted, Patience lost it!
This unfortunate (6:00a.m.) turn had me lamenting that bed-laid plans are too good to be true—
(*“Some kinda hex-tacy’s got a hold on me, and I’m wond’rin where the lie-ins are”.*)
But, on the (get) up side,
morning is when my sleepy mind dreams best, so,
rather than clinging to protest,
I find myself pro-zest by the spirit of joie de vivre! 🙂
Says I, to me—a name I call myself—”Let’s sing a different tune…
There’s no harm in having a couple loose screws—go ahead and entertain every Ikea that pops into your head.”
Taking myself at my word(s), I (a)mused,
“My chiropractor always has my back in a crunch”.
“Depending on school of thought, imaginings of sea food sets some to whaling and others to wailing.”
Having gained three pounds, Tweetie is now a Pudgy Bird…
As The White Rabbit ran past the fig newton, rabbit announced, I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.”
“Having shown their true colors, apples and oranges found themselves on opposite ends of the spectrum”.
(*Full disclosure, I’m not sure this last one is scientifically accurate–but, laughing at my own jokes trumps reality. *)
But, here’s a theory I stand behind:
I propose that…
(*not to be critical, Trules, but nothing says you have to be married to ongoing romance puns*)
As I was saying, I proffer that—all groan-up, up, and away—
and no-longer in (a) funk(y fashioned/home-made halter top
and—-can’t unring that (pair of—) bell (bottoms)—
I needn’t hide behind any shame-in-my-pain.
You, see, Darlings, it occurred to me (a couple weeks ago) that my procrastination isn’t always about laziness…
I’m an assembly in progress (*a delayed tie-in to Ikea/loose screws pun*), so, sometimes I’ve got to deliberately let the clutter collect so that,
in making a clean best of things,
I can get things off my counters—and chest—and feel a sense of accomplishment.
(* ‘Reminds me of adolescent adrenaline propelling me over the insurmountable fence standing between me and the mortification of being caught spying on an (older-boy) crush when he heard the tell-tale park-branch-crunch of my (much taller) girlfriends and I.)
I know of which I speak, Loveables…this method is the very kick in the butt (this is not working on any level) that motivated me to quit drinking cold turkey eons ago…
Before you get the wrong idea, I never did anything as shameful as drinking cold turkey…I mean, only a weirdo would give in to the impulse of stuffing turkey into a blender–convinced the toxic-tasting beverage would solve all life’s problems.
And speaking of intoxicating, I’ll end this post by saying that I’m deliriously grateful for/joy-filled by your company…you really have turned to out to be life-changers!
Aside from being sooooo kind and complementary, you motivate me when procrastination rears it’s head (it’s highly reluctant to do much more than that…but, the power of this small action cannot be underestimated).
My hope is that I’ll write another post tomorrow (which is why this is a couple hundred words briefer than usual).
Stay true to you, Wonderfuls–the world is so much better for it…and, for any who can relate to my struggles, I hope you, too, can find a way to laugh at your challenges. They really are no big whoop when you’re able to take hold of them and reframe them in a positive light.
Until next time…
God bless you and your loves.
Affectionately (and one of your biggest fans),
P.S. Context for most puns: Peaches and Kramer (as in peaches and cream/cream of the crop)..Kramer is a character on the (1989-1999) sitcom “Seinfeld” (whenever he stumbled/barged into Jerry’s apartment, all hailed his arrival with loud applause–hence my, “fall into place” pun); 5-minutes is an anti-procrastination strategy where, absent pressure/all-or-nothing expectation, high chance of success often results in going above and beyond; Constant Craving is k.d. lang’s glorious (1992) hit, orange (Juice Newton) is a nod to an awesome country crooner (I loved a couple of her hits in my adolescence–especially her 1981 cover of Angel Of The Morning); Cranberry(s) are an Irish band formed in 1989, and Ginger Spice (ale) is a nod to Brit band, The Spice Girls; “Wrote a (post) about it, wanna’ hear it…here it go” is a nod to “In Living Color” character, Calhoun Tubbs (played by David Alen Greer…Jim Carrey was also on that show…and, Jennifer Lopez was one of the Fly Girls (dancers)…I loved! this Wayan Brother’s production; bed-laid plans is my best-laid plan pun; hex-tacy is my hex (spell) and ecstasy pun (as in someone/something jinxed my good fortune), making for my nod to singer Bruce Cockburn’s (1979) hit, “Wondering Where The Lions Are”…specifically, the lyric is, “…some kind of ecstasy’s got a hold on me, and I’m wondering where the lions are”; pro-zest is my possessed pun, which is tied to spirit of joie de vivre (spirit of joy of life); me, a name I call myself is a nod to “Do, Re, Mi” (from the(1965) musical, “Sound of Music”.