Anyway it takes all my juice some days. All my writey juice, all my neat-idea juice, all my read-y juice too. And certainly all my “speak civilly to those around me while wearing pants” juice.
Currently, I am in hiding. Literally. The lawn guy just tapped on the back door and I held absolutely still in the dark cave I’ve made the living room into. Just mow! No questions! MOW!
The floor is getting difficult to walk across for all the toys and paper and…what is that…? Fork? Yes, forks, scattered across it. I have a shapeless memory of owning a vacuum but it could be a false one. I had promised a tater tot casserole to those greedy hobgoblins I live with but now I think we should all just eat whatever is in those cans at the back of the broom closet…Gus’s survival rations. This is a survival situation.
It would be so much easier if LE and Gus weren’t coming home. Because as soon as they walk in they make me SEE myself. See what I’ve neglected and avoided. They take away my virtues and replace it with truth.
No reason, just I have lots of days like that. Who doesn’t? Well, people that decide to work through them, that’s who. Suckers.
I’m not even going to find a graphic for this entry.