I was making waffles and sipping coffee when I noticed the recycling on the counter. Being the natural procrastinator that I am, I quickly chastised myself to take it to the garage because this waiting around stuff is silly. See also: my 20s.
So, I circle around the bin, passing cork boards recently recovered in the Post-Staging, Cleaning Out the Storage Unit 2000-niner - wuzzah - and it occurs to me that I should buy the gooey blue stuff and hang them today, before the Monroes come to dinner - should we have strawberry shortcake? - and shouldn't I be tacking up the medical paperwork to said boards of cork for camp next week, the way God intended.
(The cork boards were the first thing my realtor told me dump. Boo hiss and the destruction of any semblance of organization in the Casa Milton.)
I head straight to my laptop next because it occurs to me I don't know where the bus depot is exactly - darn identical strip malls - or how much we owe to make good with the camp, when I smell the burning waffles.
It's a wonder I ever get anything done.
Now, what was I doing?