Well, isn’t it funny how easy things become when you just do them? When you don’t worry about the look of them. The rightness of the language and the height of the latticework they have vined upon. You remove the choice around the tasks on your to-do list and you do them. In doing just this, I had such an extraordinary amount of time free to me last night. Just picked out the thing I would have to wear today the same way I would in the morning without the procrastination so that when I woke up, the dress decision had been made, I knew it would work well enough and be ready. I mean, this is the level we are at. This is the circuitous thought process I have to track and spin around before any great progress can be made.
A Last night, I washed pots and pans. I did it imperfectly. I have 10 things the pots and pans reminded me also needed attention.
I am hopeful to get to the point where I just have to wash the things I used that day and not store things up for some massive perfectionist cleaning job that I can never complete. That’s the latest advice I’m attempting to integrate into my reality. I am hopeful to get out of the worst of my habits and into something better for myself. As I’m reminding myself by writing today – this only can occur by starting and doing. Can’t ever think about it enough to make it happen.
Didn’t you know I’m a terrible mess? Wasn’t that clear in all of this rambling, day in and out, years on now, that I have a lot of stuff that needs a lot of attention?
Now you do – if you were confused before. This whole thing is an episode in confusion. My whole life goes that way. And I am trying, today, at least, to do better and not crash on the way down.
The sky is beautiful oftentimes in the morning. I don’t note it anywhere or tell anyone, but as I cross the threshold and stumble down the stairs to meet that pinkish sky, I do think how lucky I am to see a sky and have that beauty register to me. That I’m not so far gone down this corporate rabbit hole that I am numb to a gust of wind that reaches the skin on the back of my neck and reminds me of that one particular day, that one particular memory of an imagined world where I was both places at once. This quantum entanglement of pieces of my spirit, bound together, but so far distant, all comes back to me in a rush. No Madeleine required.
I have, also, stayed away from Madeleines, cakes, and now cookies will be added to the list. I brought two dozen, plucking each one from behind the plastic doors at the supermarket and managed to abstain. I’d rather have an Atkins shake. That’s a bit fucked up. I need to add some exercise, but I’m doing something right now. I’m giving a bit of a damn.
That’s why I’m here. Letting you know.