I have a case of the Mondays.
It’s not a terrible case, not an end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it, dread-the-coming-week case of the Mondays. It’s more like a ready-for-more-sleep-after-getting-more-done-around-the-house case of the Mondays. I’d just rather stay home for one more day.
I won’t. I can’t. I can’t afford the dogs’ brand of kibble on what I make doing chores.
So I push my to-do list out until “Thursday,” my next day off, or at until “evenings” when I get off work. There’s always more to do than there is time to do it in the 168 hours of allotted time every week. Priorities are a must.
I’ve prioritized well lately. I have a running list of things to do around the new house. Getting things done around the new house is kind of a passion of mine. New things always lend me hidden stores of energy. I’ve told anyone who will listen that my favorite thing to do, these days, is crack open a cold beer, put on some high octane tunes, and get things done around the place. It’s rewarding. That emotion won’t last forever – newness always wears out in time – so I try to do this thing as much as humanly possible while I still have a passion to do it.
Like blogging, kind of. I have a passion to write, to share my inner thoughts in some sort of cogent manner, but not in the same way I had a passion for it 6 months ago. It’s a part of me now, a routine, and one I still enjoy but it’s not the only thing on my mind all the time. Passion comes and goes.
One of my great passions is social activity. I love getting together with like-minded individuals to drink libations and laugh until our immune systems are strong for another month and a half. I generally get to do that weekly, too. My immune system must be borderline “immortal” by now.
Yesterday – which was Sunday in case you didn’t catch on earlier that this is Monday – was the day I generally spend doing that. Not always, but often. Sometimes one or more of us can’t make it, and that’s cool as heck. Yesterday, nobody could. So I set about tackling that other passion – getting something done around the house while slow-drinking some beers and listening to music watching football. The great thing about Sundays in the fall is there is another passion of mine playing all day long. I got my NFL Sunday Ticket’s worth yesterday, for sure.
When it became apparent that it was going to be a stay-at-home kind of day I scanned that working list. There, on the bottom, was something that’s probably been on my unpacking list through three moves: sort the comic boxes. Oh yeah. This is happening, I told myself. I’ll have this done by the afternoon game.
If you know me, and maybe you don’t, you know that I am a geek. I’m a football geek, a gaming geek, a superhero geek, and a beer geek. Are there beer geeks? I’m a beer geek. But since about the age of 4 or 5 I’ve been a comic book geek and, over the years, I’ve amassed a collection of these 4-color wonders. These days, like most folks, I download my comics to my tablet so I don’t collect so much paper anymore. But I have all that stuff from the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s and early 00’s sitting there, in boxes, in the garage, going with me from town to town, from house to house. And those boxes are ratty.
So, when I moved, I ordered a ten-pack of new boxes from Amazon with the intent of repackaging it all into several like-sized cartons that would sit with greater symmetry in the garage.
If you would have swung by the house around 2 in the afternoon you would have seen a mess. You would have seen me surrounded by color amidst the smell of old paper and stacks and stacks of semi-coordinated superhero books. You would have seen the missus handing me my open beer from time-to-time knowing, somehow, that getting up was not an option at that particular juncture but that, by god, I needed a drink. You would have heard and seen the red zone playing on the big screen and me, in my element, just sorting away and occasionally screaming at Jeff Fisher to throw the damn ball.
It was a good day.
I spent more than 8 hours on that project, one I thought would be tackled in about 2. There’s more of them than I thought. I need to order another ten-pack of boxes. I need to go back through what I’ve done and sort them all to make a more cohesive sense. I’m about halfway there.
So I checked off the box on my to-do list called “sort comics” that has been there for years and created a new to-do called “further sort comics.” I feel accomplished. It may be years before I finish this project. Maybe I’ll order the boxes now and the next time no one can make it to “church” I’ll tackle this again. Or maybe some other passion will have consumed me by then. It happens.
But I’ve got a case of the Mondays right now. My lower back is sore from sitting up and crouching forward all day. My throat is sore from yelling. My legs hurt because my legs always hurt anymore. I’ve got a full list of things to do still and I have to go to work.
But I really have to.
I can’t afford more comic boxes on what I make doing chores.