We all know what road is paved with good intentions, indeed we do. It’s the road leading up to where we are right this minute.
No, that doesn’t mean we’re in hell. To continue the metaphor, we took the off-ramp right before it. We can say that’s because there’s gridlock on the road to hell, but we know better.
Auntie is happy to stipulate that your boss is Satan, though you might get an argument from some of my other darlings who believe it’s their boss. Anyhow, as I said, we’re not in hell.
If I had to put a name to it, I’d nod to Dilbert™ and say that we’re in heck.
Face it; you didn’t jump out of bed this morning ready and raring to go dick around on the Internet.
Please don’t argue. If you’re reading this then I adore you to pieces, but you’ve got something better to do. It’s probably the same something that you promised yourself you’d get done yesterday. You might even have started to jog on the path to doing it when you tripped and fell down this rabbit-hole.
It was a good intention. Just like mine were.
Of course it’s easy-peasy to get derailed from an unpleasant plan. (Get it? Train tracks, more metaphor!)
If you’re like me, then you substitute doing something useful, or something for someone else, for the thing you should be doing. That way you can’t tell yourself that you’re doing something wrong.
I can’t tell myself that I’m doing something wrong by telling you all this rather than hit my To Do list. The list can wait, because you’re important to me.
See previous, re: spin.
Last night I saw one of those fear-mongering teasers online about bacteria lingering in coffeepots. So it made sense to drop all my plans this morning and scrub my coffeepot until it’s as clear as a baby’s conscience.
I’ve also done the dishes, sorted the mail, cleaned the kitchen and started the laundry. It’s not at all what I meant to do today, but I can honestly tell you: housework is heck.
To hell with it.
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