Saturday, May 2, 2009

Somewhere Down There - An Essay of Whine

I wish I had an answer to that, because I'm tired of answering that question.
Yogi Berra

Lately, I'm too tired to even remember the question. Having a bit of trouble zoning in on my tasks. I sit at work and try to recall what errands I need to run before I get home. Just as in the 200 or so essays I read a day, focus seems to be an issue. Grocery store, YMCA, garden center, post office, library, book store, grocery store, wine store, baseball game.... ah, what was I trying to put together? Oh, yes, that I need to do all those things after work and have no clue which to choose or their order. Often I choose one not on that list--melting into my chair at home.

I am a woman lost. Sometimes I just put the car on autopilot and am amazed where I turn up. I've even found myself in the YMCA parking lot, unaware that is where the road took me. Take that! I sneer to that naysayer--myself-- who never seems to arrive at that destination willingly.

Ramble, ramble. That's what lost minds do, I guess. Ramble. Lost in the fog. The more I find on my plate, the more I wander into the mists. I've redefined procrastination. Right now, I'm relaxed, whining to you while a slight breeze rustles all the new leaves on the crepe myrtle outside my bedroom. The slider is open to let in the spring air. Several snapdragons planted last fall are blooming in tall spires providing a backdrop in contrast to the greening lawn.

But surrounding that view, there are things growing on my toilets. I can leave my foot imprint in the dust on my foyer and dining room wood floors. I just wrote my name in the dust on my night stand. The dirty clothes are flowing out of the laundry room and into the hallway. The sink is filled with dirty dishes in hopes that someone will call the dishwasher repair man, and be here when he comes. The weeds in my garden are nearing a foot tall. The tomato plants I purchased two weeks ago still reside in their plastic containers on top of my picnic table. I'm sure I've changed the sheets on my bed in the past, hmmm, two weeks.

Actually, this is not what this post was to be about. My fingers have rambled on auto pilot themselves this morning. I miss writing more often on this blog and I miss staying in touch with all of those I follow. The blog world has come to fascinate me. Sometimes at day's end when I lend my weary eyes to a quick view of your sites, I see that I am several posts behind all you steady and productive writers of prose. I'm jealous.

I blame staring at a computer screen from 7:30am to 5 each day. Then trying to pick up the pieces and maintain a home life with my family while my brain is fried. Yet that is what each and every one of you do, too. And each and every woman/man out there, whether they work at home or work outside. You, and they, are obviously better at it than me.

Okay, enough lamenting for the day. It is the weekend after all and although I could have worked today and tomorrow, I declined. I will post this depressing muck and come back with a much happier rendition tomorrow. I have awards to distribute, a meme to answer. And about 500 ideas for other posts. Oh, my mom is coming from Green Bay this week for a long stay. I need to shovel out a room for her. Don't know where that middle boy will sleep when he arrives home from college in couple of weeks. But I think that oldest employed, new college graduate is moving to Dallas. Room Open.

15 comments:

  1. I'm paddling the same boat with ya. :) (Trying to find your email now so I can send you an apropos cartoon.)

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  2. Poor you, you sound so tired. How many more weeks have you left. It makes you wonder how those that have to do it 52 weeks a year cope.

    Margaret

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  4. I don't think it's whining, but it's reality.

    It's like what happens when you have your first child - you can't imagine how you're going to do this whole new set of tasks. Then after awhile, everything flows. It's hard, but a routine sets in. But the routine is different; you learn to live with dirt, to not be so perfect.

    Then when the child leaves, you can't imagine how you ever did it.

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  5. You work 40 hours a week? There is no way I could blog and work 40 hours a week. I work two days a week and even still, here my name is sketched onto my desk through dust. You need to give yourself a break. One woman can not do everything!

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  6. Interestingly, the place where your prose slides into Drive in this post is the paragraph about how dusty/untended your house is. Suddenly the words started tripping...maybe it's a familiar litany? Hee.

    I would argue that reading poor writing and being computer bound all day create a kind of mind numbness and zoned-outedness that is very draining and unique. You are entitled.

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  7. Seriously, 200 essays a day? Do you drive to hell for your job? I still don't know what you do, but I hope it is not assess state tests of some kind, cause 200 student essays would be pure torture.

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  8. You have to give yourself a break. If I was working full-time, I know I wouldn't be blogging every day, that's for darn sure.

    And my house is a pig sty. Truly. And always.

    I am in a constant state of daze, of confusion, and I am currently not working. Just looking for work. And not doing that very well.

    Take care of yourself, and the rest will wait.

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  9. Who can't relate to your thoughts here. My soul is tired, too, and it's comforting to know I am not alone. :) Thanks for stopping by my blog. And yes, I have read the Elizabeth Berg book on writing. So good. Take care of yourself!

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  10. Wow. You sound seriously overloaded. Can you hire someone to clean your house while you're clearing out the interior cobwebs? Hoping you find some clarity and peace.

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  11. First let me point out some obvious things: (1) you're burned out, and you're allowed; (2) you are at different stages of empty nest; (3) you're not getting any younger (has menopause started yet?); (4) it's spring and everyone is thinking about spring cleaning their minds and closets but not getting either done; (5) so what's wrong with dust? (6) we're in scarey times, especially economically.

    Maybe not all of things apply to you, but maybe at least one or two, that could be contributing to your mood and sense of lacking somehow?

    I've read at least six blogs this week about this exact topic- dust, confusion, feeling lost and burned out. You are not alone. Burn out, weather, season, whatever. Your life sounds pretty darn full to me. Cut yourself some slack. Give yourself a break - even from blogging.

    P.S. I bought a lovely tea olive bush two years ago. It's still sitting in the plastic pot, on the exact spot I had intended to plant it, with grass growing all around it. And it's still alive.

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  12. Hey, I'm right with ya. I could drone on and on about what I'm NOT getting done but should be. I have just decided to live with it and try to do better when I feel better, more energetic. Someone else here said to cut yourself some slack, and you should.

    Love ya and miss ya. K

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  13. I'm so glad you found me so I could find you! Cheer up. Things will slow down (yeah, and Elvis will fly out of my butt any moment), and even if they don't, you're living your life, dust and all. Enjoy it! And remember, you're younger now than you ever will be again...

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  14. My goodness, where sputtering on a Saturday can get put you. Happy to report I'm feeling better.

    Angie: Apropos indeed.

    Margaret: Yes, that's what I keep remembering - that many women do it 52 weeks of the year. I worry how many of them hate their jobs. Seems an entirely new essay there.

    Pamela: You are so right. I remember when I first stayed home with kids. Overwhelmed did not describe. And settling into a routine I'm sure does surface and will, when I find the right job. Could you still see when you finished this one?

    WWIT - I will take a break. My mom is coming this week, but she taught me about clutter.

    PHST - Hell is exactly where I go for my job.Only they keep the temp at 40 below so we dont fall asleep. Scoring Texas Assessment Essays for graduation - and now 4th grade. Will post more on it when I'm done with the job.

    Jocelyn - mindnumbing, zone out and drained, absolutely. Creativity in retreat. Interesting comment on where the piece flowed. Has given me an idea for a future essay from the goldberg night.

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  15. Mary: "Just looking for work. And not doing that very well." don't worry, Mary. I'm convinced there is better work out there for us.

    Scobberlotcher: Yes, troubled souls should hang together.

    Deb: A cleaning lady. Had one long ago. Now I'm training those that still live here, with a gun to their head.

    WTTW: 12346 yes 5 yeah, who cares about dust.
    I think I need a tea olive bush.

    Liar: Yes, energy is the key. I'll take slack.

    Debra: "Elvis will fly out of my butt any moment" HaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

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