The beginning of normalcy

My eyes still don't seem to want to focus...
But that is nothing compared to my attitude, of which focus seems to be the exact opposite.
I've managed to feed the dogs, feed myself, lay a shitty trail and enjoy my friends' company. And still, the list of things I have not done is excessive.
For instance, I still have not washed the two propane cookers I borrowed from Straw and Hog, nor have I finished cleaning Hog's keg.
I have yet to deliver the snacks to Claude, return Fire his guitar, get the haberdashery to Foreplay or disperse the remaining gimmies.
I did, however, do my taxes. And I mowed, edged and weed-eated the yard. And I pulled some weeds.
And I've done about 80 percent of the dishes from Easter Dinner.
Still, the list of things I must do in order to feel like I'm caught up is endless.
Wash the bedding Michael used during his visit. Sweep and mop the porch, dust my room, vacuum the beads Chaco spread all over the house, bathe all four dogs, find my stamps, fix the easy-up, sew the easy-up bag, make a new cover for the easy-up, sew my orange jacket, sew the camo-pants, wash the bedroom windows, the front windows and the back windows, clean out the turtle's tank, mail presents to my sister and Mike, return a movie to blockbuster and...
Oh, and find a job.
First, however, I better find those stamps, and that phone number...
and right now that still seems daunting - but at least I can conceive of a time when it won't be.