September 15, 2018

how to pass a breezy saturday

Official Symbol of Apathy®
I've been going back and reading some of my older posts, sifting through two hundred and eighteen of them (how in the ever-loving fuck have I written that much?), and it occurs to me that my bones have been written, even the tiny ones.  My childhood, my mental health, my love and hate, my worldview, are all recorded, and the past few months have brought instead chronicles of daily living, things I notice and can tie in with other things.  The shift was so subtle that I didn't notice it.

Now I can write about the Now as well as the Then, when the ideas trickle down to me.  Today, it's breezy and drizzly outside, as Florence hasn't truly reached us yet, but it still has the feel of a day when you stay home and get things done. 

(The thing about hurricanes on the east coast of the U.S. is where the wind comes from ... storms generally move from west to east, winds come from the southwest or northwest, and tree branches fortify themselves, grow a certain thickness on one side, just enough to account for this ... then the wind comes hammering from the east and Nature prunes the healthy branches along with the unhealthy ones, much like She does people ....)

I told Therapist Gumby this week that I'm living on top of a stratum of low-grade despair about my housekeeping and all of the things, so many uncountable things, that need to be done.  I don't just ignore my share of the regular chores that most people undertake.  There is painting and scrubbing and building and drilling and installing to be done.  There's the toilet tank in the guest bathroom that squeals at what must objectively be the most annoying high pitch in existence whenever anyone runs water anywhere else in the house now.  It just needs the innards of the tank replaced.  I have the kit.  I've even opened it.  Then I walked off.  That was two months ago.  Every time someone flushes another toilet, that one has to be flushed, too, to make the squealing stop.

His suggestion for eradicating the despair was to start with very small things.  We discussed this.  I vowed to go home and move a canister of Lysol wipes into our bathroom and to Windex our bathroom mirrors.

I moved the wipes the next day, but only because P.J. happened to be holding them.  I still haven't done the Windex.  Or anything else.

I'm listening to the wind in the trees and making a mental list of little things to do today.  They have to be little.  Only little things.

I will clear the dust around the bathroom vent, because it, too, has begun to make an interesting noise.

I will actually Windex the mirrors because I said I would.  (They're not even that dirty, she said sulkily.  And I'm not doing Fly Lady, even though my sink is gross.)

I will attach Rose's rabies and license tags to her new Blueberry Dog collar, the royal blue one with tiny roses on it.

I will empty the dog food into the bin so we don't keep tripping over the bag.

I will descale the Keurig and change the water filter because P.J. and I both keep hitting the "not right now" option and I think we've been doing that for ... let's just say more than a couple of weeks.

I will get the roll of non-skid stuff out of the car and bring it up and put some under the rug P.J. just bought to replace the one that Molly chewed up that was a piece of shit anyway.  The dogs have been floor-surfing on the new one when they play.

And then I will relax without guilt.  Well, not much guilt.  It's always whispering.


UPDATE:  OMG I GOT INSPIRED AND FIXED THE TOILET INNARDS AND NOW IT DOESN'T SQUEAL!!!!!!1

5 comments:

  1. Brilliant! not only did you fix one of the most annoying things, you've fixed something for your family - which is typical of you, family first you always put yourself second, third, fourth and last. Do the coffee machine next, then the rug (after you video the dogs surfing 'cause that's hysterically funny - then again after you've fixed the rug - Molly will probably tumble when she's expecting to surf, also extremely funny). Everything else can wait - the sky will not fall in. Trust me on this, you've been in my home.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I remember a very clean freezer, and not just because I contributed to its progressive decontamination vis a vis Valrhona. ;)

      Delete
  2. and do Rose's tags - that one is important. Love ya

    ReplyDelete
  3. I occasionally read FlyLady, lol. And yet I still haven't painted over the bullet hole, though I did the spackle last year.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's really no need to rush into things, you know ....

      Delete