I have all these ideas at work. Plans, really, about those last few precious hours of the day and what productive ways I will use them. Sometimes I make lists. I have one tonight. Writing this post is on it.
I get home, and the ideas, plans and lists melt away.
I'm home. I'm wrapped in my fluffy bathrobe, with the space heater pulled close and a cat or two in my lap, and it's so easy to turn on the TV and zone out to stupidity.
What happened to me? I've never been a model of activity, but ten years ago, I would be gardening (either in the yard or planning for when I would be in the yard). Or painting walls and rearranging furniture. Or sculpting miniatures. Six years ago, I wrote a book. Five years ago, I built a screen door by myself. Made a little working model and everything. Three years ago, I started Elementals, and it took almost two years to finish.
I haven't seriously worked in my garden in two years. Do I blame it all on the weird neighbors and clouds of mosquitoes? I don't know.
I can't seem to get any traction on Past Ties. Am I written out?
I don't rearrange furniture anymore. I've finally gotten a configuration that allows the cats to walk the length of the house without touching the floor or knocking anything over. It took a while, and I don't want to risk it.
Even Farmville doesn't hold my attention like it did last year. Not that I'm tired of it or giving it up. It's just become so...cumbersome. All those things to move around on my giant farm.
TT: On second thought, I love my farm. We'll pretend I didn't write anything about it. hehe!
Is this age? Are my cumulative years weighing me down? Heavens, I hope not! Based on family history, I'm not even middle-aged.
Perhaps it's an excess of material things. Last weekend showed me how desperately my home needs a good cleaning out. My trash men will be busy in March. If I do what's on my list.
Is it the TV? Time does funny things when the TV is on. It's off at the moment, by the way. With only three channels, you'd think I wouldn't find something to watch. You'd be wrong. The DVD player works fine.
Maybe it's just being home. Being the place I love the best, where I don't have to do anything or be anybody other than me. And me seems to be a lazy slob.
Good thing I'm funny.