This is for you, JustinIt's tumultuous outside. I'm tumultuous inside.
For one thing, somebody was grouchy with me for a little-elaborated upon reason before going to bed without so much as saying goodnight. Presumably his extreme tiredness contributed to this sad situation.
For another thing. [Begin private thoughts which I am sharing but for which I do not wish to be judged] My mind lives in one world and I live in another. In my mind's world, I know exactly what's for supper tonight and every other night in the next month that we'll be home. In the world I really live in, I forgot slash didn't have time to bring myself to make a decision about what to thaw (if there is anything worthwhile in the freezer) for supper tomorrow night, so I've opted for something for which you don't need to thaw anything--homemade pizza. Highly desirable meal but nevertheless a cop-out. That irritates me.
In my mind's world, I wake up, accomplish household tasks, accomplish errands, improve my mind and spirit, and have time to play a game of Scrabble with my grandmother, in a timely way, most days of the week. In the world I really live in, only about two or three things out of that list seem to happen most days each week. Or something like that. It's hit or miss. You get the point.
In my mind's world, I have clean surfaces almost everywhere in my home and deal with things that cause clutter quickly. In the world I really live in, I can't seem to get enough order to be able to make decisions about any individual piece of clutter. So as you might imagine, my laptop is snuggled amid the piles of clutter that make up my office.
I hate living this way. I hate how every thing that requires decisions in my life has turned into a pile. My inbox, my desk, my office, sometimes even the closet (though it's not in piles--it's hanging). I have a huge closet. I have a pretty big house considering we are three. Space is not the problem.
I hate admitting this to the world at large (though the world at large does not read my blog, so I'm safe), but writing it down, or typing it, which is faster, helps me feel better at least in that I've expressed it. It is amazing how essential it is, for me, to deal with things by expressing them. If I don't express, I effectually die. I don't even need a listener--a journal is just fine.
Anyway. I have been accomplishing things, just not enough, and often not "the right" things. I need discipline. I hate it, but I need it. I also want to be brutal to my clutter. I hate how it has me "backed into a corner"--not literally, but figuratively (and sometimes literally, but so what).
And I also don't understand why I am a night person. Being a night person means you cannot be a day person. I need to be a day person. Yet I think the most clearly at night. So here I am, typing, and I will be more tired for it tomorrow. Why is that? I want to tackle projects right now... but I know there won't be time to get enough done, so I'm afraid to.
Okay, thanks for listening. Maybe I'll attempt a tiny project anyway. So there.