Sometimes I barter with myself.Self, if you go for a thirty-minute run, you will be amply rewarded with a pedicure.Does any one else play these mind-games? Why can't the post-workout endorphins be enough for me?
Always . . . I trick myself by playing music when I have a household chore. If I'm into the music and in the moment, folding laundry seems so incidental.
Like Amélie Poulain, my life is all about the littlest pleasures: the freshest, pinkest raspberries; the deep blue of a Vermeer painting; the perfect crispness of a glass of Prosecco; the divine simplicity of an afternoon at the beach; the heavenly scent of a vanilla bean. Here I blog to celebrate the good life, la dolce vita, la belle vie. Cherish life's petits plaisirs and enrich your daily existence.
You should know that I take liberties with grammar, punctuation, & diction. Do not fear! I assure you I've been educated about the woes of abundant comma usage or the impropriety of ending a sentence with a preposition. Here, as this is not my dissertation, I write as I talk. I also make up words on occasion.
"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." -Ernest Hemingway
Always . . .
ReplyDeleteI trick myself by playing music when I have a household chore. If I'm into the music and in the moment, folding laundry seems so incidental.