I have never wanted to be one of those people who could write a million beautiful words to be read, but at the end of it leave someone completely puzzled as to what those words were about. I like to think that when I write words down, there's not much to be left to interpret- that my use of past tense alludes to compulsion involving cleaning, or any other bullshit like that.

Plainly stated, I've been thinking a lot about doing things while you still can, before you literally and physically cannot. My warm months started out somewhat dull and uneventful, since I was at least an hour away from most of the people I wanted to be spending time with. After a few weeks of days blending together and nothing extremely special happening, my grandma fell and broke her hip. I've never really had my own personal brush with mortality, but I'd imagine that they start to become more common the older you get. Now, you see, my grandma is eighty-six, but in her case, eighty-six is the new sixty. In between taking in Cubs games and going on cruises, my grandma doesn't stop moving. That's how she's been for as long as I can remember. Knowing that, and then seeing her in a hospital bed, blinking back tears because the pain medicine isn't strong enough, is a humbling thing. Later on, I made some remark in passing to my mom about a comment my grandma had made about using coupons to save ten cents on canned corn, or something else everyone's grandmother has probably said. My mom, laughed, but told me that I need to take advantage of the time I have with my grandma now before it's out of my control. I don't really know how many times one can be reminded to enjoy the little things, the funny aspects of something, or even the not-so-good things. I almost wonder why I have these revelations so often, as if it's a sign that I need to start appreciating more, but I already feel like I'm pretty appreciative. It's puzzling, almost.

I sat here and thought about this all for a while, mostly because I felt like I hit a brick wall with this and wasn't too sure how to sum this up, or end it, and then I sort of realized. I am a control freak. I plan things way too far in advance, almost to where it is not a good thing. If I could stop the gears in my head for two seconds and enjoy what's in front of me without contemplating how to take it farther, how to do more, or where to go next, I think I would really be able to enjoy the little things more. And that will always be my Achilles heel, especially because I don't really think being organized is a bad thing, or thinking ahead. Just maybe a little too much.

And on that note, I'm going to go read my book.