... here at El Casa Imóvil De Pennington, about which... this:
Further on “Procrastination…” It occurred to me last evening that one of my “issues” these days is the decided lack of nagging in my life. Now most men would consider this particular lack a blessing, and I most certainly DO… most of the time. But, let’s be honest about this, Guys. A lot of stuff gets done around the house (other places, too) simply because the nag-ee desperately wants the nag-er to STFU. Or more diplomatic words to that effect. Men being men, inertia will raise its ugly lil head in the absence of “motivation.” We’ll do what’s expedient, we’ll do the absolute minimum of what’s required to keep us breathing, fed, and smelling less bad to those we encounter, and we’ll most definitely accomplish things that must be done in the face of penalties… such as paying the bills on time. But we’ll also put off to the VERY LAST MICROSECOND those things we find distasteful or even boring. If left to our own devices, that is.
In my current situation, for example, I find reading every single game recap and poring over obscure hockey stats infinitely preferable to, say, doing laundry. Especially since I haven’t even come close to tapping the
emergencyvintage tee shirt supply, and I don’t wear socks once the temp is consistently over 60 degrees. Ergo: there’s no real need to do laundry, yet. That changes, once the supply of clean clothes runs out. Or: I’ll be off to the laundromat in my LAST clean tee shirt at the very last microsecond.
Necessity is the Mom of Execution in My World. NOT invention, as is commonly thought.
Oh. I don’t want a live-in nag, thankyouverymuch, if you’re thinking along those lines.
Procrastination may be bad, but there are worse things in life.
Well, we don't have to hie our Old Ass off to the laundromat any longer, seein' as how we have our very own washer and dryer now. But, that said, it's still a right royal Pain-In-The-Ass to do laundry and I ran it right down to the very last moment these past few weeks. Which is to say we were but ONE tee-shirt from having to break out the vintage tees, linked above. Like this:
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Vintage TeesRemember when I told you I had to do laundry coz I was down to “vintage” tee shirts? Well, I wore one of those self-same tee shirts out to the base yesterday, specifically this one:
And Boy-Howdy did I ever get some hard looks from some ol’ codgers. I felt like telling at least one of those guys “Hey, I’m not a Commie, it’s a souvenir.” And so it is…from one of my Moscow trips during the ‘90s. (I have NO idea what the text says, and I've asked around, too.)
I probably would have gotten approving smiles had I worn this one, instead:
The yellow font is hard to read: it says “Miller.” Make sense, now? I love this shirt; it was a gift from SN2 back when he was an enlisted sailor on a boomer...the USS James K. Polk.
Sigh. So... laundry, and we're ALMOST done. I've said it before and I'll say it again: "Life's been Hell since the maid quit."
One other thing: I've given up... completely... on tryin' to fold fitted sheets. These days I just roll 'em up in a ball and then change the linen, immediately after they come out o' the dryer (or shortly thereafter). The next time I buy linens... if there IS a next time... I'm only gonna buy TOP sheets. I know how to make hospital corners and doin' that is infinitely preferable to wrestling with fitted sheets. I HATE those damned things!