A reprieve is just that, a reprieve. It means something (for whatever reasons) is being delayed or postponed, for an indeterminate amount of time. It does not mean that the something in question is being abandoned.

So my trip plans were put off for another twelve hours – meaning that I am still going to Fairbanks, and leaving what needs to be done here, undone. And so, briefly, I was less overwhelmed, but as the my departure time approaches, this feeling is again starting to engulf me.

Plain and simple, I have a lot to do here, more than I can do in a day.

I will need to, when I get back, get on a major organizational roll.

Picking up books at VCRS

I’m an ideas person, and as such, I leave behind creative detritus. My sister Eleanor once said that she has little elves in her head, who go into file cabinets and start throwing things around. My problem is that I do not have filing cabinets, just little elves, and they’re having a grand old time.

I would like to get these elves to march in lock step, but this is a laughable proposition. They are like crickets; they take delight in being all over the place.

Well, I will have to organize what the elves will not. And I will leave them stuff to mess with.

It would take me days, if I took on immediate, that is centrally located tasks, to get to the door. I am, you see, a hoarder of creative detritus.

This is the best I can do.

Is what I have written here of interest to anyone? This very well may not be, and that’s okay. One of the purposes of writing is to problem solve – and I am attempting to do this.

I do owe it to my readers to say why I have gone off on the above tear.

I had a related revelation this morning. Two of the BLBP board members are being driven nuts by my lack of organizational savvy. I have been cruising along, hoping that I could continue to do what I do so well and not continue what I do not do so well. I would sometimes take a deep breath, and do some organizing, but sad to say, I would always become mired in my focus on detail. Yeah, I am a details person.

They tried to take matters in their own hands, and without input from me, come up with a succession plan. This became a “continuity plan.” I resisted. But this morning, I sent both an email saying, let’s work on this.

I talked with the elves about this, and they laughed – this was the funniest thing they’d heard in a long, long time. I said to them that I was glad that I brightened their day. They then began to laugh even harder. Tears in fact began rolling down their chubby little faces.

I don’t think that I’ll be able to keep the elves in check. But I might get others, who have no elves to deal with, to do some of the organizational work that needs to be done.

Phew, this is all revelatory, making it a good piece of writing.

Next: 140. 5/22/23: Anchorage to Fairbanks