- Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris
A strange thing happens to me on Sunday afternoons. Usually it comes right around the time I decide to take a nap. Yesterday I had a family friend out to look at some projects around the house for me. In one month, I will be the proud owner of a remodeled bathroom! Yay! BUT, Hubby and I woke up decently early, about 9, and were just getting ready to go to breakfast when the FF showed up. He was there for over three hours, looking at the projects and pricing and talking us through the finer points of building a deck so it doesn’t mess up the sliding door (or door-wall for all of you weridos who use that term) he’s going to put in our “dining room”. After he left we went to what had become lunch and then when we got home it was already 2 and I was already feeling a nap coming on. When I laid down I couldn’t help but feel that horrible “I’m wasting my life” feeling well up inside of me. It hung around through an evening of sharing wine and playing games, through dinner and my pre-bed tea, into the night and morning. It’s still here.
This morning I looked around and had this desire to FINISH SOMETHING. Anything. The Proulx is taking so long but I wouldn’t say that it’s dragging. I enjoy reading it when I get myself to do so. I’ve gotten better about leaving my cell phone across the room but I still feel kind of distracted.
My favorite reading place is on my side of the couch. I sit sideways, with my feet on the middle cushion and my back snuggled into my throw pillows. Really, it’s my favorite place to be. It’s comfortable and it is surrounded with my PROJECTS. There’s a lap desk stored beside it. My current book is usually on the coffee table or the ledge behind the couch. There there are the half finished puzzle books, the coloring books, the cross stitch that I’ve been working on for so long that it’s no longer even something I want. (When I was 24 I had the idea that I would have an Asian inspired bathroom with lots of bamboo plants and some cross stitched kimono pictures. Eh. Not so much at 31.) A few weeks ago, maybe even a month ago, I started gutting my room, spring cleaning and filling boxes with donations. The box is still half full and sits UNDER my dirty clothes basket. I am half-way through my dresser and have been for a couple of weeks.
It gets even harder now that Spring has sprung in Michigan finally. I want to be outside. I don’t want to be outside. I want to do stuff. I don’t want to do stuff. I spend more time in indecisive turmoil than anything else.
But this week I plan on finishing something. Anything. I’ve started reading The Giver for my Sci-Fi/Fantasy book club because the discussion starts of Sunday. I plan on reading just as much as I can this week, hopefully finishing that up and getting on a ways in the Proulx. Now I face the decision of what to do with my Tuesday. I can either go and jam at my bestie’s house, which has proven to improve my mood, or I can go home and be quiet by myself for a bit. It’s hard because both sound good and I sometimes worry that I am living a flat, empty life.
On the other hand, it was an amazing weekend. The sun was out and I got to hang out with a friend, my brother-in-law, and my mother. People everywhere were ridiculously nice, strangers striking up conversations and more than a few commenting on how beautiful the weather is for a convertible. Spring is nice. Now if I can settle the unsettled in me and get down to it, I’m sure that I’ll feel better.
May you, dear lovies, get down to whatever you need to get down to, too.