I hate to say it, but I'm very skilled at procrastination.

I have a Paper Desk and a Computer Desk. My Paper Desk is messier than my Computer Desk because I neglect it more and also because it's so eclectic. I clip things from the New York Times every week: book reviews and theatre profiles for me; blog ideas for me (not blogs as such, but things that trigger blogs in me); medical mysteries for my granddaughter the doctor; art and design things for my granddaughter the artist; human interest things for my Boston-based daughter and son-in-law and their daughters; wedding accounts for a friend who is a wedding officiant; foodie news for a friend who is pathologically organic and health-food-oriented; math problems, reviews, conundrums and esoteric recipes for my son the genius. Then there are a few bills to pay that aren't online; birthday cards to send; and notes to write to people who don't have a computer (they're old friends). Like that. The papers pile up and wait for me. And I procrastinate, productively.

This morning Paper Desk was at the top of my to-do list. So - I finished Chapter Ten of my book, not finished, you know, but I tweaked some more, downloaded and printed it. I made a low-calorie dinner, as usual in a much larger quantity than required, for the freezer, for my son, for a neighbour (?), maybe even for a second shot for me. And of course I made Lists.

Well, I did finally write some essential letters and mailed them on my way to get my third TwinRix shot. Only four months to go before I cruise around the world (southern hemisphere) so I have a lot to do. Anywhere I choose to procrastinate, it will help.

Too soon, too soon. I wrote late last night after a day in Hamilton celebrating a friend's birthday. I haven't even had my swim yet. Slow start. I'll check in later....don't hold your breath.

Here I am, end of another day. Today is Sunday New York Times Day. Every week we are urged to read the most gripping novel(s) of the year, a book you can't put down, a revelation, something you never knew. One has to read between the lines to decide. I think I have to wait a little longer before I order things. Well, some things I know I don't need or want, but then, you never can tell. All my life I have always thought there was something else I must know, must learn before I put it all together. I have learned a little, but not enough, never enough.

Oh, now, how about the fashion? T-magazine came this week, too, "Revisiting Spirit," with reports on cutting edge (?) arts, décor, fashion, and so on. Well, the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission) has helped me to a deeper understanding for and indifference to Fashion. I look at most of the creations and I wonder how one could get on the subway wearing any of them. I do, however, admire much of the fashion I see on my fellow passengers. I like the long black skirts that some of the women wear. I bought one for myself, actually, but I have never worn it on the subway. I'm afraid of tripping. I have enough trouble with escalators as it is. I worry about young women's feet. They wear flip-flops and I'm afraid they will stub their toes and ruin their arches.

Ah, well, I do run on. And so does my battery. Time to re-charge. Anon, anon.