To-do lists

I had an incredibly productive Monday morning:

I scheduled an appointment at the RV dealer to get Serenity’s vent fixed.

I called the fence people about the permit problem.

I took a load of stuff to Goodwill, probably the last.

I stopped at the pharmacy and picked up a prescription and discussed arrangements for refills on the road.

I called my doctor and got a couple extra refills added to my prescription.

I took some old cans of paint and bug spray to the landfill.

I loaded up Serenity with four bookcases and a chair and drove them to the house of the friend who’s taking them.

I posted a question about traveling with pets to Facebook.

I emailed my realtor.

I called the guy who’s taking my porch furniture and made arrangements with him for Thursday.

I talked to my sister and set up a time for my nephew to come collect a few things.

I spent some time researching temperature monitoring solutions for when I have to leave the dogs in Serenity.*

And then I sat down at the computer to write and… didn’t.

I have this fantasy where I’m so engrossed in the story I’m telling that all the trivial details of my life are simply flotsam and jetsam drifting past unnoticed while a current of pure story drives my days. Reality is never so smooth. If Grace was a kayak outing, it would be an insanely frustrating one where the current of reality keeps driving me into eddies and backwaters. Actually, that’s a really good description of Grace anyway. I keep thinking I’ve got it and then… I keep not getting it.

But the day is not yet over. Admittedly, it’s after 7 and I haven’t had dinner and still need to take the trash out and my realtor just answered my email… but words can still be written! So off I go to at least try, having fulfilled one more item on my checklist of things to be done. (I’ve managed to blog every Monday of 2016 — I didn’t want to break my chain!) A week from today, I’ll be on the road, headed to PA, and all of the vast multitude of house-related to-do list items will be… well, done. I don’t know whether I’m more relieved, scared, or excited.

*The temperature inside Serenity hit 122 degrees the other day. I was impressed. That was with all windows closed and no AC on, of course, on a Florida day in July — a situation in which I would never leave the dogs. But I would like some kind of warning system for when I do leave them, although preferably one that doesn’t cost a small fortune.