Setting: right here. write now.
I lay in the bed just now half praying, half running the day through my head, chastising myself for not fully praying, sweeping over the guilt with a prayer about not being right and asking God for help with everything—in particular my thoughts and distractions.
I do what I do when I haven’t done what I needed—I make my list on my phone. First, I start with the time we have to leave and dot backwards to “get up.” I have a thing about setting—it’s less of a thing and more of a hindrance. This thing where everything must be “just-so” before I begin my work. It’s an affliction called “tidiness.”
On the original to-do list, the first thing I wrote was to tidy the kitchen, start laundry and feed the dogs.
I edited the plot. “There is no challenge without change.” I had the nerve to retweet it. Did I have the nerve to live it?
7:30-write slice, write note to Aunt Carolyn, write to Miss Em.
I prioritized the things that I knew would have me awake at 2am. I’d wake frantic and frustrated that I threw the Slice competition by not having started and put the other two items on another list of to-dos that would likely get overshadowed by “tidy this.
The tidying affliction is a slice of insanity. I seek to tidy things that always get messed: dishes, clothes, play-rooms, classrooms…
Never once have I decided to tidy the china cabinet.
So one is done. And the dogs were kind enough not to blow my cover. I thought once they saw me they would yelp and such to be let out. But I hear deep, rhythmic breathing by them. Upstairs, my little ones coughing a bit, stirring. My husband half sleep, doing the same.
Slice of quiet Slice of cold Slice of I wish that fire were whirring warmth at me
Slice of I wish there was a day in between Saturday and Sunday…
The stirs are turning louder, and somebody has to feed these kids!