On preparing to prepare

You are my sunshine, grocery store flower bin

(iPhone photo #27 in my 2012 365 +1 project)

You are my sunshine, grocery store flower bin. I don’t want to take you home with me in case you make me sneeze or something, but I like to look at you when I walk through the door. Never change. I like you just the way you are.

I feel like I’ve been on my feet all day, but I don’t know what I’ve done. I haven’t accomplished a resolution. I did my job and took care of some errands, and that pretty much wiped me out.

Yesterday, the fact that the day wiped me out was my excuse for having earned no stars — gold, silver, or otherwise — in my resolution journal, so I’ve had to come up with something else for today. I’m counting this day as one of preparing to prepare. Some days are for trying out new exercise programs, and other days are for adding fitness shows to your Netflix queue. Some days are for cleaning out cabinets, and other days are for staring at them in disgust thinking about how there are probably some cute canisters out there somewhere that could put everything to rights. Some days are for hauling off the recycling, and other days are for deciding to do it later. I’ve just had one of those other days today.

I considered giving up on the idea of a resolution journal when I realized that I was very likely to rack up more days than not with nothing to report. Then I decided that any old fool who is actually keeping resolutions can write a journal about it, but a real test of character would be in the person who keeps up the journal while doing nothing else.

That said, I did not exercise today unless it’s okay to count scrambling to catch up. My main activity was running around the building looking for my phone when I was ready to leave work. I thought I’d looked everywhere. I was ready to give up. I was convinced that the phone had been stolen. I was fairly frantic considering that I carry everything but my toothbrush in that phone.

But then I remembered about the fancy iCloud thing where you can go online, log into your Apple account, and ask the cloud to find your phone. I thought I would very cleverly catch my thief this way. To my surprise, the thief had not yet left campus. The cloud located my phone in a parking lot on the JC campus, strangely enough right at the spot where I had parked my own car.

Even as I walked out to the car to check again, I expected to find a thief hanging out somewhere nearby. I had looked in the car already. The phone wasn’t there.

Except that it was the first thing I spotted when I went out there knowing that the GPS had pinpointed that spot. Crazy thief.