A Chore Story

Well, I slept all night, except for one tiny wake up. But it only means I was really tired from not sleeping the night before. And the experts are in agreement that you can’t catch up on sleep. So, I’m not really sure what to do except plod on. And that seems to be a recurring theme in my life, and life in general. Plod on. But since I’m now a slow-moving, sloth-like creature it means I get to look around, and that’s a good thing. It plays straight into my natural tendencies.

My early mornings are mostly occupied with this, writing, and puzzles. Then it’s out into the yard to water, weed and check the plants. I don’t know if they know I’m looking, but maybe they do. Anyway, I try to stand beneath each tree, look for deadwood, and monitor their general health. It’s the same with the flowers and vines. I think we all have a nice relationship. I even have people who check in on me to make sure I’m still healthy and watered, although when I eventually die, I bet there will be people who are surprised I was still alive.

And I’m not at all concerned with that. It’s been a long time since I cared if those people liked me or even thought about me. And that seems harsh. But my goal these days is to be kind and pleasant and let the chips fall where they may. It’s all part of the idea I learned a few years back, and I’ve said it before, that it isn’t my job to make someone happy. The best I can do is make it possible for someone to “be” happy. But that’s up to them, whoever “them” is. And now I’m off to do my chores, which makes me happy.