Splendiferous Conventionality

How fascinating! I settled in on the couch late last night deciding I would "allow" myself a night of nothingness. I was watching a 2-disc documentary DVD of serial killers. Perhaps I am one of only a few mothers in America who can simultaneously listen to such gory material and carry out normal, menial tasks such as quilting or folding laundry, and not be bothered per se . The material is gruesome and tragic-- I recognize that... but I am fascinated by what makes these people killers in comparison to the rest of us non-killers. I wrapped up in a fuzzy fleece hug as red as a berry as the dog curled up at my feet and the cat nestled in my lap. Not long after stretching out, I realized an invisible string must be strung from my toes to my eyelids. The more stretching I did, the more comfortable I became, the harder it was to keep my eyes open. I dozed off during an episode about the "Profile of a Killer".... ...the first time I woke was due to the baking of myse...

I should not be writing. I should be sawing some sort of log, or counting some sort of fluffy farm animal jumping fences, or be floating through the air in a cloud car on my way to Care-A-Lot... but I often do not do what is best for me. That time will come I suppose. I am in take-care-of-them mode. Them is broad and nondescript. Them  may be the kids, the neighbors, a sick friend, a recipient of my snail mail correspondence, homework, volunteering, organizations, housework, yard work, my husband... the cat. I am OK with this- it is my body and brain that are having a hard time adjusting. Sheesh. You'd think they'd know the drill by now. I mean really. I've only been doing it this way for the majority of my existence. I suppose I am getting better at it now-- at least I am healthier about it, and the people or items I am taking care of are healthier as well. It has been so long since I have really been careless with myself that it seems eons ago... and other than it m...

My table, currently, is the perfect analogy of my life... piles of things to be done; homework, kids' papers, bills to pay, receipts; window cleaner, a bottle of Pledge and some paper towels; a hammer, two dead batteries, some medicine, and approximately four broken items in desperate need of some serious super glue. All these things remain on the table... no one is fixing, gluing, paying, filing, or giving any attention to these things... they sit and collect dust and past due notices... the table, like me, is overwhelmed. There are too many things to fix; too many pieces to match up to their broken spots; too many things to keep straight and organize-- I want to take my long, gangly arm and sweep these things on to the floor- watching with glee as they tumble onto the floor with various degrees of sounds- CRASH BANG THUMP CLATTER- batteries roll under the couch, the cat chases the roll of paper towels, papers flit and flutter until they finally find a new home amongst the wood fl...