Island Days

islandWhat do you do with the unexpected riches of an “Island Day”? From the dark of 5 a.m., I confront the question now as I prepare to burn a day (Wednesday, yet!) surrounded by two 2-day weeks. Yom Kippur, you see. No impact on me religiously, yet, with schools off, a day deserving religious planning. Of a sort.

You see, Island Days have minds of their own. They resist order, planning, and checklists. And their accomplices are a voice deep in the well of our own minds: “I should do this today because opportunity knocks, but if I leave opportunity on the doorstep, it won’t be the end of the world because, well, I’m off today, so hey nonny nonny and how do you like them apples… er, pineapples?”

Houston Fiji, we have a problem. An Island Day is its own safety net, fallback plan (or “un-plan”), excuse wrapped and ribboned. Yeppers. Island Days teem with procrastination. Ah, the luxury of warm affliction!

My solution to the conundrum of mid-week tropical breezes? Plan fun stuff. Con the Tropic of Capricorn. So I’m going to the library to drop off and pick up some books. And writing something, anything (no, this doesn’t count — though it does count if I don’t write anything else, so there).

Maybe I’ll visit a farmer’s stand and pick up (without picking) some Cortlands or Macouns. Maybe I’ll run 3 miles and feel noble for this side of nothing. Or wait. It’s strength-training day, too, isn’t it? (My muscles make lousy students, but I’m going to need them as an old man, so….)

Whatever. There’s just no managing a peskily-wonderful Island Day. But still, in the name of Ben Franklin and his cursed planners, we should try to accomplish something.

Resolved: I’ll think about it and start easy. Must. Walk. Dog. (Check! One task accomplished already. See how easy?)

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