A bit of structure...

You know, I really like Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., but the writers are really pushing the envelope of believability.  I mean, gee, you don't bring alien tech back to your stronghold.  Period.  And if you are going into a place that magnifies your fears, you don't listen to the first guy you see who is supposed to be dead and who admits to being a figment of your imagination (fear).  YOU SHOOT THE GUY ON FIRST SIGHT!

I sometimes think of writing and how much I miss it and how much I ache for not doing what I wanted to do, not being what I wanted to be, whenever I watch television shows or movies.  The good.  The bad.  I often think about the writing, the story, as much as I do anything else.

And then, of course, I think about the story of my life.  It is one that saddens me greatly.  SIGH.

I have been working on a bit of structure in my life, so every other Friday, I have started changing my sheets.  I'd like them changed every week.  Heck, if I were wealthy, I'd have them changed daily.  Fresh sheets are such a pleasure.  Anyway, changing the bedding is rather arduous for me, terribly difficult and draining.  Still, I wanted to establish a routine of sorts to ensure that I have fresh sheets at least every two weeks.

It is isn't just fresh sheets every two weeks.  I have been doing the laundry that day, usually one load of my things and one of the bedding.  Up and down the stairs is wearying.  Bending over the machines is wearying.  Hanging the laundry is wearying.  Folding the laundry is wearying.  Still, I like having a routine.

I try to torture myself early, so that I can get to the chores earlier in the day.  First exercise then I cool down.  After that I change the bedding out, which is as exhausting as exercising.  Next comes a shower, which is also exhausting.  Then, my sweaty exercise clothing is added to my laundry pile and I cart the overflowing basket downstairs.  Yes, you guessed it.  Doing that is exhausting.  Really, all this structure is exceedingly exhausting!

But, then, before I take the laundry down another flight of stairs, I lay a fire.  This involves getting a fire starter out of the deacon's bench.  The deacon's bench, which serves as my downstairs closet, that has a terribly heavy lid and requires that I bend over as I open it.  Bending over makes me faint unless I am very, very, very careful.  [NOTE:  It is hard to be very, very, very careful when one is already exhausted.]   Then, I put all the kindling into the fireplace and set my fire starter in the center of it with a fire stick (Firewood Man cuts 1.5-2 inch pieces of wood for me to use to start my fires) right above it.  Next, I fetch a load of wood that is smaller pieces, so that the fire will start easily.  I stack those above the kindling on the andirons.  Finally, I fetch a second load of wood that is comprised of larger pieces of wood that will burn well once the fire has been going for a while.

Fire laying is exhausting.

I do that before I go downstairs to start the laundry, because I can get an impressive fire in just a couple of minutes.  If I light the fire before I go downstairs, then I come back upstairs to a roaring fire and sofas inviting me to rest.

After that, my DO SOMETHING has mostly ended.  I make myself a meal, having usually planned for something that is the shortest amount of preparing time, such as black-eyed peas medley, beef stew with beer, or spicy corn chowder.  And I collapse on the sofa, with my only goal for the rest of the evening is to keep remembering that I am doing laundry so that I can get it done save for folding the things that will be air-drying overnight.  My goal has been to collapse on said sofa by 7:00 PM or there abouts so that I can have a good, long fire.

Going to bed on Friday nights is heavenly, for I am sliding between fresh sheets.  And I have had an evening of fires (as long as it is cold ... which it has been since I started this structure plan).  And I have had an evening of snuggling Amos, guilt free, having done the work of changing my bedding and doing my laundry.

So, my Fridays are nothing special on the outside, but they have become a real blessing to me with the structure and soothing fire (and snuggling) that takes place.

* * * *

Golly Gee Wilikers!  That simple entry in my online rememberer has taken me FOUR DARN DAYS to write.  I absolutely HATE what a slog fest trying to use my brain has become!  ARGH.

I am missing so darn much of my life these days.  I want to have something recording this time since I won't remember it.  But I am at a loss as how to do so with how hard writing has become now.  SIGH.