Montana Jones

Montana n: A state of the northwest United States bordering on Canada. Admitted as the 41st state in 1889. The fourth largest state in the union, it includes vast prairies and numerous majestic mountain ranges.
Syn: Treasure State, Big Sky Country, Last Best Place.

Jones n: slang. An addiction or very deep craving.

Friday, April 01, 2005

There is a storm coming

Old hands can look at the clouds on the horizon or feel the wind shift to the south and know that a storm is coming. My storm is less subtle. My storm builds with the pages of the calendar. Another page torn down and a chill crawls my spine. I'm not going to be ready.

Preparation is everything. I have said it to myself a hundred times, make no move today that was not planned yesterday. Come summer if I am making things up as I go I will have failed in my spring planning. If I am making things up as I go I will have failed my customers. If I am making things up as I go my livelihood is in danger. Preparation is everything.

Then why am I wasting time? Why do I allow myself to grow weary and allow my attention to drift over to the games, to the blogs, to the television, to the bars, to my recreation? Time is slippery stuff and when I have too much I waste it like I waste the drought water from the leisurely daily shower that serves less to bath me and more as a warm security blanket while I stand naked and sleep dazed before the day.

My list of what I need to do today is not so great. My list for the week, a little more substantial. For the month, crucial. And yet as the morning sun peeks into my windows and my wits gather in the same haphazard fashion as those robins on the lawn. I am aware that a day well spent will bring me rewards of efficiency and a lack of crisis later on. I am aware that my crucial list of tasks needs to be plinked at a little bit today. I am aware that my daily needs allow time enough, before I turn to the schedules and books, to click one more link; and yet one more.

I know that if I am well prepared the storm will be easy to weather. I also know that a storm easily weathered does not show oneself in the most dramatic possible light, fighting against gale and gust and gods own lightning in an epic clash of human courage. There is little glory in making it look easy and no drama. Slacking today can create both glory and drama. I can set myself up to be a hero and all I have to do is to continue to stand naked, unconcerned, innocent as the water grows cold and the calendar pages flit away.

In the end I can't allow my subconscious schemes to play out. The stakes are too high to allow the heroics gambit. But I may still do it accidentally because today there is nice sunshine, and a little spare time, and the temptations of leisure, and yet one more blog to read.

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