The List of Impossible Tasks, Part 2

Just a few years ago, it was fine, absolutely practical even, to rush over to the grocery store for a single item. It took about 20 minutes to walk the mile there and return home, or about ten minutes by biking in the bicycle lane along the wide road. Now my shopping trips have a different tone: desperation. Too often I have hurried myself home without one precious item that brings the meal together, or if I'm incredibly unlucky, several meals. Yesterday I found myself hovering near the checkout line, list in hand, intensely reviewing the document as if it were the final draft of an article for print. Somewhat assured, I paid for my groceries and headed home. Sixty miles later I unpacked gingerly, hoping to find everything tucked inside. I am getting better about list making. This is important and not impossible. Whew. One down.

Letting go of the fact that my sisters liked my ex better
Or at least they did. Mostly just his energy, because they were too young to understand relationship dynamics. Still, it's difficult to ignore, that prickle of defensiveness that comes whenever I sense criticism. I feel I have to say, as often as I can work it in, how much happier I am now.

Finishing this book
Which has spiralled into three segments and keeps reaching out for more.

Not printing recipes
Do you have a website with gorgeous food photography on it? I've probably printed something from there. Chances are good that even if it was rife with beef or made of half a chicken (I'm veg), I printed it on out anyway. You'd think I didn't have enough recipes ripped from the pages of my five subscription food magazines, plus more flags in my full-color cookbooks than I'll ever review again. What's for dinner? Who the hell knows. Mostly I don't reference any of it, just open the refrigerator and see what falls out. Sometimes literally. I think I'd rather just crumple the printed pages and eat pictures. Which leads me to. . .

Learning to operate my point-and-shoot patiently enough to take my own gorgeous pictures
I've heard it's pretty easy, but when there's food involved my patience evaporates. I'd much rather be eating, and it shows in my underlit, yellowed food pictures. You'll just have to trust me that it tastes great because we all know it looks like cafeteria food.

Buying shoes that are practical for my level of homebody-ness (98%)
Flipflops aside, I am enamored of shoes with a heel. My prior office life was well equipped with the 4" variety in every style and color. I've since retired a few of these to Goodwill, but I can't bear to part with the others. Not only that, I wish to replenish their former pack with more members. Why? If I leave the house properly clothed at my twice per week regularity, it is for one of two reasons. First, to shop, thereby requiring comfortable walking shoes for at least two hours of perusing aisles at grocery and subsequent specialty stores. Second, to mail a letter or cash a check, requiring only shoes that allow me to operate bike pedals. (I do leave the house for exercise, but I'm terribly attired with matching tennis.) So why is it that I send away for these suede boots with the 3" heel? I am an atrocious money waster.

Letting a stack of cookies go stale
It's completely stupid, but I'd rather run an extra mile.

{End part two of a long, working list. More to come.}