Confessions (#11)

Well, it was supposed to be a short post, but it turned into something a tad bit longer. Though, not anything close to my lengthier tomes. 

Fortunately, I managed to explain the included image. 

Unfortunately, it requires you to read to the end. 

Enjoy!

This afternoon I received the second dose of my Covid-19 vaccine. The first one left my arm aching for two straight days. It also inspired some phantom arm pain during my fifteen-minute drive to today's appointment. A good friend scheduled the shots, and the staff at the CVS was kind, supportive, and professional. So I cannot blame this shot on tonight's short post.

However, I endured a lot of physical activity this weekend. It began with hours of painting on Friday. Then it continued with an intense house cleaning session, and a round of mowing, on Saturday. Today, running up to my vaccination appointment, I cooked a full breakfast for a small gathering of children, scrubbed down pool toys and equipment, and vacuumed the pool. Finally, I grilled and served some delicious hot dogs and French fries for my daughter's friends, who enjoyed the clean pool. While they were at the house, I managed to keep it orderly, preserving yesterday's cleaning marathon. Oh, and I washed, dried, and folded several loads of laundry.

But that is not my true excuse for keeping today's blogging brief. Instead, it was last night's air conditioning debacle, complete with cascading water streaming through an air handling vent, and a painful crawl through a dark, cramped, stifling attic with only a flashlight. The first twenty-one years of my life was spent without AC. And I swore never to spend my adult life without it, if I could help it. Well, last night, I had to accept a long, uncomfortable sleep with only a fan and no cross ventilation. Then, I spent the next morning waiting for a repairman to make an emergency visit. He was kind and helpful, and fixed the problem. Yet, it forced me to scramble to accomplish my long list of tasks in a shorter period of time.

 

In the end, it all worked out. I am vaccinated. The children are well fed and exhausted. And the air conditioning now works. 

Now, what was I actually going to write about?

Ah, yes, that's right. I intended to talk about the abomination I photographed and attached to this blog post. It is an embarrassing reminder of a task I have been avoiding, and a goal I have been neglecting. The brightly bleached showers, shiny mopped floors, decluttered countertops, dust free blinds, and smudge-free windows achieved entirely on Saturday's cleaning adventure stand in sharp contrast to the tragedy in the photo. It is my workspace, a place to outline tasks and accomplish items on lists; my sanctuary, a fortress to escape the daily grind and obligations; my muse, an oasis of inspiration to fuel my dreams. Or, rather it should be all those things. It should be were I go to conjure up my personal projects, sweat out my novels, bleed out my drawings, and recover and rediscover myself, collecting insights and gathering energy for the new day.

But, for now, it is a heap of unfulfilled promises to myself. Loose ends to be cut and trashed. Uncollated snippets of ideas to be researched. Dangling memories to be examined. And shifting tools to be organized for efficiency, and utilized when necessary.

My outward, public life is an orderly presentation; my inward, private world, a chaotic dumping ground.

   

At some point I have to confront it.

Right now, I am going to do the following: wrap up this blog post, fold some more laundry, take two Advil for my arm, eat a bowl of oatmeal, and get in a few chapters of reading. 

Then head to bed, ready to enjoy a full night of air conditioning, reciting to myself the following mantras: 

Tomorrow is a new day.

One day at a time.

It is what it is.