Bona Fide truth.
I feel like a befuddled muddle. A puddle of possibilities. I have a few hours of alone time at home. No little league game to be at. No babysitting the Charmings, no visits from the Adorables, no fun or errands for Mom. No pressing deadlines because it is officially Sunday and Not MONDAY - WHICH kinda gives me a - Gee it's Sunday card and I don't really HAVE to work and isn't it maybe better I don't? Question so . . .
I have spent a few hours being crazy. The kind of crazy that is known as MONKEY MIND. Monkey mind looks like this.
- Maybe I should read a book. Maybe I should read two books! Or finish that magazine on Albert Einstein's life. Or soak in a tub. No, no. I could watch a movie that only I seem to want to see. No, no. It's warmer. I should go get plants and clean up the porch. Definitely. Or the guest room. NONONO!
I need to wrap up the exciting last scenes of the new novel! Surely, surely this is it. Particularly, since the scenes are running back and forth and back and forth in my brain like a caged wolf and they will not stop pacing until they are on paper.
Or Yoga. Definitely, I could take my time and do a long yoga tape. Which I got at the used book store. Maybe I could go to the used book store to get more tapes. Or write that blog about used bookstores. I need coffee for that. I'm out of coffee. I should go to the store for coffee. NO, wait, I should really get that single serving Kuerig I've been wanting because that would save me time and I'm the only person that drinks coffee in the house and somehow that's justified. If I shop for Kuerig today I could start my Monday off with fresh coffee.
Speaking of shopping, I've got that big event coming up soon where I speak for a week and must dress twice a day in different outfits. Everyone who knows me realizes I have a few pairs of jeans, one suit, and some interesting t-shirts including some from concerts, bands, and micro's. (yep.) So, shopping would be a really good idea. I could even be wise and hit the consignment shops. But everyone who knows me knows how much I hate shopping. Except for purses. I love shopping for purses but only to find the ONE PERFECT BAG. Which reminds me of a story. Best. Purse. Ever. From Saks. In New York. Car window busted. Stolen. Gone. Had a tiny little note from my son who was five. Best. Note. Ever. Stolen. Lost. Gone.
Maybe I should go organize the photos of the boys and all their little notes and artwork I did save.
But of course, the blog radio people just sent me an update on the shows I'd love to listen to - "Traveling Italy Mafia style." Say what?!! But then there is a click on starting your own show on blog radio and once again I'm thinking, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson and I should do this. We should just add another thing to our lists and start another new show but do this one together. I mean we both already have radio shows. What's one more?
Or I could start working on this weeks show. I have so much great materials, interviews, news, and lit stuff backed up, I could do that while the house is quiet.
Gee, it's getting warmer out. I should really take Big Dog for a walk even if I am still limping. Well, since I'm still limping, maybe I should just get Nephew and take him out to the land to practice his batting.
Or maybe I could just go ahead and write that book review that's due in the am for She Reads.
My head hurts. I think maybe I should just lie down. And, close my eyes. And, rest until I figure this out.