Grand Plans

I had grand plans for today. I had even written them down, over there, on that notepad I bought expressly for the writing down of grand plans. Checklists and shopping lists and lists of all sorts. I went to bed early, I didn't have my nightcap, I washed my face, a good cleansing of the skin is what I did. I looked up what time the sun was to rise and I set my alarm for five minutes before, that I might rise with it, that I could for once watch a new day dawn. The places I was going to go, the things I was going to accomplish, the people I would call, the food I'd make. I bought a bottle of champagne, I was to hold a small celebration, which seems silly, because people do things every day, the world is filled with thing-doers. But I didn't rise with the sun. I slept until my normal, awful time and felt awful for it. I made toast and crossed things off my list, the ones I had to spare. And perhaps I could have still made a dent, still done enough, still made things better if I'd only stuck with it. But there is a sensation that comes over me at three o'clock, where if I haven't done much, I shut down. My body, brain, my being starts to coast. And then I'm counting the minutes until five. Then I'm kicking off my shoes. And people do this every day as well. But sometimes I am sick of being one person. I'd like to be another. And, I hope, that in realizing that I am some small step in that direction. And so I will pop my bubbly and toast to me, even though they say not to. But they aren't here.