Hell Week

Turns out I did a fantastic job of procrastinating this month. Too bad that is not a valuable life skill because I would be set if procrastination was the new productivity. So, I made a pact with myself. I will let this week, the last week of October, be the worst week ever if, in return, I can take the month of November off. Like, I don't want to lift a finger next month. I want to go to the Atlantic Crossing and the Kort Haus and play Buck Hunter and Rock Band and cook delicious fall food and make mulled cider and go on long walks in the rain with the dogs and stay too long in the gym trying to do handstand push-ups and muscle ups and play cribbage and watch movies and make playlists for my shuffle and visit my family without an agenda. But, in order to do that, I have a ton to do this week. It looks a little like this: clean the house really well, clean my bedroom (= folding all the clothes on the floor and washing my comforter cover that both dogs slept on), pull up all the moldy tomato/pepper/eggplant plants and clean up the yard, set a court date for my traffic ticket, get the stupid wax out of the carpet where it spilled out of some plug-in smelly thing, order lifting shoes for next weekend's lifting cert, clean up Molly's backyard, file a suit against the creep who has my horse and has yet to pay $1 for her, pay rent/utilties, remove the stereo from my old dead truck (RIP Lou!!) and donate him to public radio (gay! Seattle! liberal!), put fenders on my bike and batteries in my lights so I stop driving the 1.5 miles to work, put the canopy on my truck so the dogs aren't riding in the open bed, move the couch from Molly's, go downtown for a top secret mission. Yeah, so not too much, just the ushe. And, on top of all that, I signed up to work two extra shifts this week so I could earn vacation hours for November. And, to seal the deal, I want to not have to do any of this on Saturday so it can be a scary rugby day instead of a stress basket day. Let's see how it goes... I am a psycho.