Endurance is not my thing. I'm great with quick projects I can start and finish in an hour, or a night. Occasionally a week. I don't have the patience for long-term investments of time and energy (which is a real problem where writing is concerned).
This is a devolution of character. I used to blame Farmville, but I suspect it's more a factor of age and environment. I rarely need to keep going, so I don't. I tend so many cats just so I have a reason to get up most days.
The garage sale pile grows, but it should have grown even more last night. Problem was, I got home, I sat down, and I didn't want to get up again. I know the laws of thermodynamics. If I want to stay in motion, I need to be in motion.
Or, I need to break it down into tasks I can finish in one night. Clear this closet. Go through that bin of bedding. I have 10 ten days. Surely I can force myself to clean house for 20 hours over 10 days. I'm already liking the more open feel of the basement, and seeing the bottom of the guest closet. Isn't that enough reason?
Happy Tuesday, dear readers. What's in your closet?