Making sense

Anne Lamott, on writing ...

"We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason why they write so little. But we do. We have so much we want to say and figure out.”

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Feeling ADD

So much to do today, but I can't seem to get started. Papers on the dining room table loom large; laundry needs finished -- why do certain members of this household put clothes into the washer and then the dryer but leave the items to wrinkle in a basket, unfolded and not hung, as though a Laundry Finishing Fairy will pick up the job ... I'm desperate for a Starbucks mocha frappuccino but not dressed yet to get in the car to purchase the drink; thought I cleaned the house well over spring break but wouldn't you know the dust is back (and pet hair is abundant, particularly on the wood floors ... now whose idea was it to replace the carpeting with wood floors?); should go to the gym but I have an annoying head cold.
The spousal unit returned from this business trip, and in some disturbing way I am not pleased that he has come home. My life is less complicated when he's not around. I feel ashamed at writing this, but it is true. It's like there's some sort of necessary re-entry period, like he is a space shuttle coming back into my atmosphere.
I feel lazy, lethargic, apathetic. Still upset about friend's sale to the publishing giant. Wondering when my day will come.

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