I did a few things today:
1. I woke up. Which is not much of an achievement, but seems as good a place as any to start a list.
2. I spent a series of stacked hours learning to sew feathers over felt without drawing blood. I considered finding a thimble, but always found that the next feather in the line was a more interesting target. I looked back and forth between my computer screen and the work in my hands, trying to learn the professional trick from a two dimensional representation of the finished product, so that my amateur and untrained fingers could work their same magic. I sewed feathers. And I sewed more feathers. I cut feathers, and I littered my floor with bits of wing and flight, which dark as the feathers were, looked a little like I’d been messy in giving myself a haircut.
3. I did not give myself a haircut. I did not damage myself in any way, except for that one stab wound on my left index finger (which is one of my least favorite fingers, if I’m being honest)
4. I ate breakfast. I ate it at entirely the wrong time of day, and a more traditional person might have called it lunch. Still, it was when I broke my fast, so I’ll argue that I’m still correct.
5. I sewed more feathers. I set the feathers on my shoulders, spun around, grinned in a mirror, stopped and tilted my head down and thinned my smile to a happy, dangerous line, because it suited the darkness of the feathers better. And I sewed more feathers.
6. I spent those same stacked hours falling for a rascal named Locke Lamora for three simple reasons. One: the most dangerous statement in our language is “Locke would appreciate it.” Two: the second most dangerous is “Locke taught me a new trick.” Three: Locke is a rascal, and a rascal is my kind of being. (I am beginning to adore audio books, which let me work with my hands and fall into other worlds simultaneously.)
7. I cooked dinner with the sort of alacrity that would alarm professional chefs and old-world gentleman – who think that a meal should be a result of reflection and study, menus prepared in advance, and timed to perfection – but delighted me in my need to leave the house on time. Spaghetti and meatballs and Parmesan cheese and the-salad-in-the-fridge.
8. I fraternized. I talked and laughed and read and ate and spent time. I went out with friends and I enjoyed it.
9. I wrote this limerick on the way home:
There once was a girl of some density,
who worked not, with smarts, but intensity.
She dug into one task,
let all others slack,
and looked up at the end, saying “whoops-a-day!”
10. I arrived home, looked at my feathers and considered how many I might sew into place by midnight. Then I shook my head, and flatly reminded myself I had a blog post to write.
I am a single-minded thing. But I did a few things today.