Entropy, fiddle-de-dee.

My thermometer lied.

I woke at my usual 6:30ish (when it was light out only two weeks ago, but now that the Oh So Wise Ones have laid the curse of the Saved Daylight upon us, it is once again like the bottom of the proverbial well.) Went downstairs, navigating the cat-icade that keeps the downstairs cats down and the upstairs cats up, made coffee, fed the four-leggers, and checked the thermometer that tells what the temperature is outside. It's made to be in a car or truck, so the little sensing pad is on the end of a long string, with the digital readout bar at the other end. I glanced at it - it was foggy out, but when there's snow on the ground that can be good or bad - then did a double take - 61 degrees!!

I did a little springtime jig and put on some Crocs to go get the newspaper - no coat needed when it's 61 degrees! Danced out the door, thought, "Boy, it's nippy for 61", and promptly went butt over teakettle when I stepped on the ice-covered flagstone.

I limped down the drive and back, came in and checked the temperature on the NOAA - 31! Limped out to the kitchen (had to get the coffee anyway) and checked the thermometer again: yep, 61. The little lying bastard.

So I was already feeling sorry for myself, allowing me to segue into today's topic: Accomplishing Nothing. Meeting No Goals. Perhaps we should just refer to it as Entropy.

Yeah, yeah. I know about dS = δQ / T, where δQ is the amount of heat absorbed in an isothermal and reversible process in which the system goes from one state to another, and T is the absolute temperature at which the process is yakkity yakkity (thanks, Annie) ho hum. I'm talking about personal entropy here, and you know it, so shelve the thermodynamics crap.

Let's just define Personal Entropy to mean progression from a more ordered to a less ordered state. (There's something about the Heat Death of the Universe here...it's right on the tip of my brain...) Hell, I can see it everywhere in my immediate environment - cat boxes need cleaning, as do human bathrooms, no clean clothing really, no clean dishes - hey, there's always paper! - but the dishes don't matter since no one has food shopped in a while. Have I started that diet and/or exercise program I was talking about a few days ago? Um, that would be no. Not so much as a toe-touch. Paint a room? Pfft.

I did get some diet- and exercise-related stuff from the library. I dug out the faux finish books and tentatively chose a couple color schemes - and I want to paint a trompe l'oeil mural on the big staircase. I made a shopping list, even, before I discovered I was Without Merit or Hope due to my lack of doing.

Oddly, though, I don't feel like all is lost. I feel more, maybe, like the green shoots outside under the snow. It's all there, just waiting for the time to be right, for the waiting to be filled, and when it is, boy, I'll just leap into action. Just leap...yeah...right there...leaping.

In the meantime, though, there's still frozen stuff falling from the sky, and besides, who am I to argue with thermodynamic laws? I'll rinse out a mug, make some tea, and watch the fifth replaying of Mean Girls.

Fiddle-de-dee (say it with me, Scarlett.) I'll think about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day.