Some of the choices I’ve made of late had my mind exploding, akin to Tchaikovsy’s 1812 Overture, complete with the swirling notes of the flutes (or my spinning out of control in simplicity planning) to the pounding explosions of the cannons.
As usual, I had put too much on my plate where, rather than a chicken with its head cut off, I was moving about like The Flight of the Bumblebee. Too many directions, too many distractions, too many dismissed items off my personal to-do list.
So what did I accomplish this weekend, three days away from work (and only 30 minutes in all glancing at its email)? Nothing. Well, nothing practical, except to enjoy the sunshine, binge-read the stacks of books the library wants back this week (all right, five, but it’s a start). Watched a couple of shows on DVD (is there anything good on television, really?), and sorted the stacks of reports I get to bring into work. For the review. The dreaded review. But I digress.
Some say a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind and an organized desk, an organized mind. What does an empty desk say?
Fall’s approaching and I’ll probably fall down again from the too-many goals set (one of them to minimize the number of said goals). Then again, don’t we fall to get back up? To soar higher in the sky?
It’s classical music month, so the Tuesdays will be spent on a tune or two. Enjoy.