While I cleaned the dishes, I would remind myself of my clever little ideas and tell myself that as soon as the last dish was put away, I would dutifully obey my heart's inclination to dash off a few sentences. That way, I said to myself, I would be sure to remember all of my fantastic pieces of creative genius. And then...every single time.....I would forget. I would move on to organizing Barbie clothes, and wondering why we had more Barbies than clothes.
Yesterday as I waited in the pick-up line at Moira's school, I pulled out the tiny notebook and pen that I keep in my carry-on suitcase-sized purse. I put the pen in my mouth, and willed my teeth to bite through the mental fog and get my thoughts moving! I jotted down a few thoughts about rising and baking bread (it will make sense in the future) and political rants (if I can control my bitter barbs at hearing the word maverick 873 times) and various holiday-themed musings.
Last night as I talked to my sister, I had some additional ideas. In fact, veritable fireworks of unprecedented genius were going off in my head. I was so busy being genius that I neglected to do what any good author must. I didn't write it down. Had I learned nothing from my weekend of so-called productivity?
Because we must find fulfillment in life somewhere, somehow, I find mine in how good of a parent/spouse hybrid I am and how well I write. This is not the sum of my life, but if I have something cooking in my mind's burner, just waiting to tantalize the minds of others...and if I get a break from being That Mom who is still trying to brush her kids' hair as they are walking into the classroom...this puts my oft' troubled heart at ease. But in my collected moments of forgetfulness, I was raging. How dare I defy the laws of writing? What good am I if I can't even remember the things I'm trying to remember? And when this morning's routine went smoothly because I played Super Spouse and gathered and packed everything my kids could possibly need for their day at school...I wasn't fulfilled.
I was intent on today's purpose: I.WOULD.WRITE.
I would be informative and witty and insightful and meaningful. Yes, today I would veer slightly back from whence I had strayed. I did a good job of taking care of the family this weekend; now it was time to take care of me.
So I arrived at work, made a somewhat passable ponytail from Sabra's scraggly fro-hair (she really is my kid) ate both of my afternoon apples in the span of an hour, dropped Sabra off, and pulled up the computer. Ahhh, yes. Time to write.
But I really don't want to talk about how much Palin makes my skin crawl. I don't want to think about deep and meaningful things today, and I'm not necessarily in the mood to write something witty.
But as my days are measured by how much I have written or how many loads of laundry I've done, it is necessary for me to write in order to ignore my laundry whence I return home at the close of this day.
So, without further ado...I bring to you the Most Important Thing that has happened to me today. Philosophy, My Uber Favorite company for All Things Good, has released their first wave of holiday-themed products.
Isn't it beautiful? Spicy ginger, snappy cinnamon, lovely brown sugar...just waiting for me to take it home.
Normally, something called spicy pear cobbler would force me to squint my face. But no...Philosophy is the Most Amazing Company Ever and they will never ever let you down. It is kind of strange to bathe in something green, but I'm up for it. I mean, it will seriously contribute to my sense of peace.
Who doesn't love a caramel apple? Especially when there is no need for ungunking your teeth? I think that if I had this, I would eat less. So maybe the expense would be justified. I could pay for this lovely, cheery red bottle of love from my grocery budget.
You know that I'm a compulsive bulimia shopper. That is, I put stuff in my online/real cart and carry it around until at the last minute I put it all back. It produces a high that while not akin to real shopping, is yet enough to make me feel better. When I got my invitation to view the lovely world of expensive bath products, I knew that I would be engaging in shop vomit. And I did. I filled my cart with $120 worth of shower gel. And then, sadly, I clicked the little red 'x' at the top right corner of the window.
But I'm still thinking of them, wondering how their rich, luxurious pearly soap would delicately scent my skin and bring me True Happiness. And once more, I've let my own self get in the way of writing. You came looking for entertainment or food for thought. Today, gentle and good reader, you will have to be content with my thoughts on shower gel lust. I know that it sounds crazy, but if it does...that only means you haven't felt this incredible potion touch your skin. You haven't stuck your nose so deep into the bottle that you accidentally choked on soap. But if you had, and if you did...you would get it.
And then you would agree that dishes and sock pairing are not valid reasons for my lack of blog material. No, those things can always wait. But pumpkin spice muffin shower gel...well, that only comes around once a year.
And this new beast, this unicorn of bath products, this vision of all that is pure and good and quiet and soft and cool and lightly sweet...well, something that special only comes around once in a lifetime.
And what have I to say that can compare with that?
Surely not 'maverick', as that has been done. And done. And done. And done. And done. Alaska.
In light of my fluffy little blog, I urge you to take a break from being productive. Sure, you can read about the economic crisis and the latest quote containing the words 'bulldog' and 'hockey mom'. But do you really need another reason to be anxious? Do you need a reason to lose your creative ideas? Sure, go educate yourself. Pay your bills and DO NOT sit your children in front of the television while you cry in the bathroom about how your life is not how you thought it would be. But when you're done checking things off your list, you'll need a happy thought. And when you do...you will remember my wise words.
I hope you will heed them.
And more importantly, I hope you share with me. I won't snort it this time. I swear.
Maverick.
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