It's only hubris if I fail

So, with the long weekend stretching out before me still a day away, I'm gathering a list of things that I want to do over the 3 blissful days:
  • Sew 3 new skirts that are office-appropriate
  • Watch my current Netflix (Melancholia)
  • Go hiking!
  • Clean the apartment
  • Do laundry
  • Find the fridge light bulb (Someone accidentally un-plugged the fridge, making me think that the light had burned out, since it was still cool and so I removed the light bulb thinking that I needed to replace it. I put it down somewhere and have completely lost track of it.)
  • Knit (specifically the socks from yesterday's post)
  • Make pancakes with the blackberries that thawed in the night of the wimpy freezer and re-froze into a solid mass of frozen-berry-goodness (see fridge light bulb story above)
  • Limit my poking around online so that I can actually get things done!
  • Find a way to get rid of the collection of old books I need to give away, and find a way to get them to any related location
  • Perhaps some quilting? I really need to pick up the pace on my current project.
Currently, the plan is to compare this with the list of things that I actually get done this weekend and see exactly how much I get done. This is how overly ambitious white girls do things: we make lists of our goals, work our asses off to get there, exhaust ourselves in the process, and then berate ourselves afterwards for all the mistakes and missed goals. Ah, that's the life!

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