I woke up this morning with a feeling of having the whole day ahead of me… and yet everything feels the same. Meh.
Nothing pressing to do, but lots to do… you know? Like I don’t have to, don’t wanna, can’t think of anything better, but the day will be wasted, and it’s raining outside and .. and… and.
My head starts thinking in my restlessness and before you know it, I’ve got a weight in my chest- pregnant with anxiety, which turns into a line on my face that feels and looks grim, so I mop the house and clean with my mouth making a strait grim line as I scrub my restlessness into the floor so that I can walk all over it this coming week. Wow. How stupid.
I remember how my parents used to “find us something to do” if we could not make ourselves busy- usually in the form of cleaning, and “pitching in”. God forbid we should relax, and by-gum put some elbow grease into it!
Hold on, I think I might be having a revelation over here.