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A mug of coffee nestled between both hands. A dog curled up in her bed next to my chair. I lean back and turn my head toward the window. The yard is coated in a blanket of white, as snow continues to fall. I ponder the idea of leaving the house today to get a jump start on the grocery shopping. It is a sour thought that exhausts me. Cleaning off the car, bundling up, lugging a bag full of groceries up a snow covered walkway. It seems like too much work for the day. I look out the window again and notice that the chickens haven’t even come out of their coop. I knew they wouldn’t and I didn’t even bother to go out and open their pen this morning. Chickens don’t care to free range on snow days. Maybe I will just focus my efforts on laundry today.

Things I could do today instead, but probably won’t: declutter an area of the house, clean, work on a writing project, jumping jacks. I have a friend who posted about not being mentally prepared for snow. She’s in Oklahoma and to be fair, snow used to be a rare occurrence in that state. I commented that I am never mentally prepared for snow and it is a much more common occurrence where I live. I am not prepared even when I know it is coming, even when I have paid attention to the forecast. Michael talked about planning a social distancing pizza party with his Moms in a park for Saturday. I asked him if he was sure about that. I said “It’s supposed to snow.” He called me a liar and went on with his day. It’s fair. I usually tell the weather forecasters that they are liars whenever they tell us that it is going to snow.

I get up from my chair and walk into the kitchen to refill my coffee mug. Then I walk over to the front door and peer out the window. I look at the street which is relatively clear and then look over at my car in the driveway. It is not clear, but covered in snow in a way that makes it look like it is made of snow. A block of snow on wheels. I shake my head in affirmation of skipping the grocery store today. I turn back to my desk and chair and plop down while wrapping a blanket around my shoulders like a grannie. I have stalled. I am idling. I am settling into my boredom. Actually allowing myself to be bored. Ideas sprout from boredom. I’ve been thinking of a business plan, a service. I either teach a chef to take better photos or I take the food pictures for them for their website. The classes will talk about lighting and building a cohesive and attractive online presence. The service would be photographing and editing photos and then providing digital files to be used on a website. What’s that worth? How much would you pay for a class or a service like that? That’s the sticking point. I’m always underselling myself. Even now with the idea, I feel unqualified. So the idea will just sit in the back of my brain until the next moment of boredom rolls around.

I take a sip of my coffee and wince. It has grown cold as I sat there dreaming up ideas. I sigh as I realize that the list of things I should do just continues to grow longer. Then I get up and head to the kitchen to pour out my cold coffee and refill the mug with warm coffee. As I pour the fresh coffee into the mug I realize that this process will be the loop of the day. Drink half the mug. Allow coffee to go cold. Dump. Fill up mug. Repeat. It is a familiar loop. Start writing something. Set it aside. Dump half of it. Start writing something else. Repeat. Come up with a good idea. Set it aside. Tell myself I’m not qualified or I don’t have the time. Return to that idea. Repeat. I sit down at my desk and look at my keyboard. Today, I am determined to finish this one cup of coffee before it gets cold.

Life goals.