I am the king of unfinished things. I’m the captain of the Just Good Enough. I often know where to start but not where to stop.
I am a jack of all trades, or, if I’m honest, a 10 of spades. And “all” is meant figuratively. Secretly I yearn to be the joker.
I am the cabinet door left open. I have again forgotten to close it. I have made a trip somewhere to pick up one specific thing and have – despite reminders by phone and text – returned home without it.
Where is my wallet? Where are my keys? Why is my car rolling away?
Oh. I left it in neutral.
I am texting while I drive. I am reading my e-mail. I am taking business calls on the toilet. I mute while I flush.
I am napping under a desk in an abandoned cubicle on the fifth floor of the corporate office building where I work. I am taking excessively long walks over my lunch break. I see a deer and her fawn in the woods behind the parking lot in the sunlight.
Let’s face it: I’m just rinsing most of these dishes. The sponge has long been out of soap.
I am overdue for an oil change. My wiper fluid is out.
My dentist’s receptionist has sent a series of e-mails. Polite. Concerned. Annoyed. Disgusted. I have missed many cleanings.
I did not wash that fruit. I told you I did, but I didn’t.
I did not wash my hands. I lifted the lever and ran the water for a subterfugeous second.
I am my keychain, left in plain view on my unlocked car’s passenger seat. Overnight. Again. I have been running on empty for over two days.
I am scores of dead houseplants, starved by neglect, then overwatered into oblivion.
I am thirty thousand undone sit ups coalesced and marching in formation back and forth across the sky.
Where is my phone? Where are those stamps? What is this letter from the IRS?
They have seen fit to get in touch with me directly.
I am the king of unfinished things, and I don’t know if it’s good or if it’s bad. I think I am trying to change it.
But I’m not trying very hard.