So here it is Saturday night and I’m filled with regret about what I should’ve done today.
I should’ve put up the tree – a different tree, a smaller one that we had in the basement. The replacement parts for the tree we had planned to put up will be here until Tuesday at the earliest. That’s December 18 – What’s the point then, really?
I should have made more than one batch of cookies. Did I mention that I’m losing it? You should see these things that are supposed to be Italian sesame cookies. You wouldn’t recognize them.
I should’ve cleaned more. I should’ve put the Christmas things in the downstairs bathroom. I should’ve done more prep work on the stuffed shells that I’ll be serving tomorrow.
There’s a double birthday celebration in the house tomorrow – my son and my husband. Imagine that – fancy hors d’oeuvres, delectable dinner served on my beloved Stangl, the goldplated flatware, the best Christmas tablecloth.
Maybe I’ll wake up early tomorrow and pull out the bucket to wash away the dog footprints on the kitchen floor. Maybe I’ll make those pineapple nut drops after all. Maybe I’ll climb two steps on the utility stool so I can clean the mirrors in the dining room.
Maybe I won’t.
I wish I could be the kind of person that doesn’t care about this stuff. But I’m the kind of person that does care but also doesn’t care enough to actually do it.
It’s a real problem.