Times is busy lately. Last week I finally managed to bum rides to the grocery store and the coop, and I was so thrilled to be able to buy ingredients that I maybe overdid it. I stocked up things for at least four different very specific recipes (I did make some allusions to ice cream, and I feel obliged to follow through…duty, you know) and enough staples to whip up sudden inspirations. The trouble at present is that I’m just eking by with the things I actually need to do.
I think I’ve foreseen all the tasks I’ll have to accomplish–fold 1,500 origami boxes, produce ten exhibition worthy abstract drawings, prepare food for 50-100 people for four days–but I forget that every task involves a million subtasks, and each subtask takes an hour or two or eight, and I’ve still only started the fourth drawing and thank god I’ve found help with the boxes and we’ve managed to fold 200 in three days.
Here’s what I wonder: Is my sense of how time will pass in the future inaccurate or do I just have an ingrained sense of poverty that there’s never enough time in the day? And if I could mellow out, would I find that, sure I’ll have to sacrifice some things (it may be a while before we see that white chocolate mousse tart), but at the end of every day, I had twenty four hours, and I got to live every second of them, and that’s hardly poverty.
For now I am still trying to do everything, even the fun things that I should probably pass up for the responsible things (ahem, ahem, cookies versus PR statements).
Recipe after the jump…