Imaginary Tetris Blocks

I got dressed to go running today, but never went.

I'm looking at the clock this afternoon and playing imaginary tetris with blocks of time. Like if my Google calendar was 4D and I could drag and drop things in the air in front of me. It's hot. Sweaty and stuffy come to mind as words to describe it, but not sweltering. Let's just say it's gorgeous out and I'm happy to enjoy it from this side of the windows for now. So, I figure if I time it right, I can catch the evening cool-down on my run and avoid the midday melt.

I know if I change into my running stuff now I'm more likely to just get up and go later. So I do. And when I walk back to my desk to do just one more thing, I blink and suddenly I'm out of time. No more running for me. Today's imaginary tetris blocks no longer fit in their invisible floating container. I barely have time to change and get out the door for dinner.

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as they say.

And, regardless of whether the credit goes Robert Burns for his poem or to John Steinbeck for his book, the meaning here remains the same—

I got dressed to go running today, but never went.

---

Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
260/365

When you can't fit everything in, how do you choose? No seriously, I'm asking...

onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.