The Afterthought

I've been rather frustrated with my lack of writing lately. Or, I should say, my lack of posting.

I tend to lean towards the 'sounds personal but really isn't' method of blogging that allows me to make outlandish statements and reveal crazy but true tidbits about my life.

I don't often say things about what I'm thinking or feeling. Sure, I tell you what I'm obsessed with (losing six pounds) what I'm afraid of (untimely death) and what irritates me (pickles that leave their nasty juicy stains on my sandwich and thus ruin the entire meal).

But as for the really real stuff...it just kind of peeks through the other stuff I wave in front of you to keep you somewhat entertained.

Not to say that I don't like waving colorful banners of literary delight for you, because I really do. I find it as enthralling and fulfilling as any other part of my life, if not more so.

However, sometimes I just don't feel up to the task of weaving a beautiful tapestry of silk and cotton, of blue and yellow. Sometimes, like today, I really just want to have random conversations about what all is going on in my life.

And then, just when I'm about to post something about my searches for the perfect school for Moira's first grade year, or how I've spent the day wondering how to get around a large library fine, I get nervous.

I worry that my tired out, normal, everyday kind of thoughts won't hold you. After all, they hardly hold me. As you might already know, it is awfully hard to keep your mind focused when you are mentally checking off a list of horrifically mundane things such as:

1.) Go to grocery store

2.) Clean toilets

3.)Work out

4.) Call doctor

5.) Do laundry

I literally couldn't pay attention while just writing that boring list. No joke, it took me about five minutes. How much better do you think I'll fare when actually attempting those things?

Much to my delight/frustration, I rearrange, add, spruce, and sparkle the list. And then it looks more like this:

1.) Go to grocery store under guise of buying milk and bread. Roam around SuperTarget for twenty blissful minutes, completely blankbrained and at peace. Return to car, explain that all bread and milk were sold out, thus explaining your purchase of hummus and clearance Valentine's Day chocolate.

2.) Think about cleaning toilets for first time ever in life. Dry heave, then nag spouse to clean toilets because he is the one that makes them need the cleaning anyways. Wonder if I can numb gag reflex long enough to ever, ever clean toilets.

3.) Psyche self up for working out at 5:30 in the morning, while family is still sleeping. Tell self how lovely t'will be to not hate short shorts this summer due to rash-inducing thigh flub. Set alarm for 5:30, tell friends have turned over new leaf and will be Hard Body Extraordinaire. Hear alarm, turn off, go back to sleep and hate thin people everywhere. Will embrace curvy self.

4.) Ask everyone I know for their pediatrician's numbers for the seventh time. Lose numbers, get embarassed and call Kristi because she is too nice to berate me. Call doctor, make appointments, wincing all the while because the receptionist wants to know the last time my kids went to a doctor. Immediately feel better about taking charge of kids' health. Immediately feel stressed about the doctor calling CPS because my kids shot records are almost lily white. Feel shame at being bad parent. Wonder if I can pass as someone who voluntarily declines vaccines, as they could lead to Bad Problems. Don't think that will work. Cry a little bit on the inside.

5.) Sort the small mountains of clothing into actual colors, as the piles are too big to just be 'dark' 'light' or 'gentle'. Find red scarf worn in Ireland...breathe in slowly, imagine the chilly air and smell of sheep. Open eyes and be dissatisfied with life in the suburbs.

OPTIONAL - Eat hummus while Austin cleans toilets, drown stress about doctor visit by eating sale chocolates, get upset with self because of eating too many chocolates, vow to get up at 5:30 the next morning, rethink the laundry by deciding the red scarf and favorite jeans don't really need to be washed because Just Washed Jeans are two sizes too small and since I probably won't wake up to work out, the clean jeans would only make me cry.

I truly am so confused about why I started this blog in the first place. I think my brain, in an effort to make life more exciting, sabatoges my ability to think clearly.

Or something like that.

Well, I avoided saying anything 'real' yet again. I wonder if I am an avoider? I think I might be. Something about naming a worry or a problem makes it somehow more real, and infinitely harder to cope with. Once you say it, you really can't take it back.

The power of words never ceases to amaze me. I only wish I could conjure up the right words when talking to an actual person. Then I might not lay out my frustration on you, the poor unsuspecting cyber reader.

I really could do with some chatting, and maybe at some point I'll figure out what it is I want to say. I do have so much on my mind, and the list is so long, and so complex, and so detailed, that I don't know where to begin, and I certainly don't know when it will end.

So, if you feel that way, perhaps you should go have a looksee around Target. Or, if you want to steer clear of the sale chocolates, you can lose yourself in this picture.

Does it not look familiar? Go dig your red scarf out of the laundry pile....close your eyes...there you go.