1 p.m. at the Tiny House. Lunch is done, dishes stacked in the sink. One boy is in the tub, one is playing Runescape, again.
One study report almost edited, another one to go. I think I'll send the team the raw versions and get back to the author in my sweet time, instead of editing both before team review. They're already 2 days behind schedule, and if I edit both they'll be at least 4 days late. Not something I want to have happen.
There's a timeline to update, documents to follow-up on, dishes to do, a bone doc appointment to get to, backpacks to clean out, laundry to fold, a transfer to the Things' Dad's house to make. There are many many things to do, to have already done and not, to think about doing right now but don't, to prioritize and reconfigure enough to fit into one day.
I already KNOW I'm not going to be successful. That part doesn't bother me, because by now I'm used to being behind. What I focus on now is not having it all done, because that's impossible; instead I focus on keeping up with the top 3 things that are most important. Even that can be a struggle.
As I sit in the big chair on a sunny Thursday afternoon, typing this in between bouts of editing and e-mail, it occurs to me that I am spectacularly fortunate. I am...lucky. I have been given much. Yes, I worked for it, yes, I still struggle and fret, but there are millions of people who would pay to have my problems. I have a job. I have a home. I have health and access to medicine and the internet and the ability to read and a good education and the inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Simple circumstances that are the envy of so very many.
Guess I'm taking a moment to be grateful. It's not hard to do on a sunny afternoon as the cats nap, the dog basks, the boys bathe or play, and I sit comfortably in a cozy chair streaming internet at blazing speed that is bought by the salary from a good steady job.
Yeah. Grateful. Not a bad way to feel.
This post ain't nothing but me being what I feel at this moment. There are no requests for comments, no questions for you to answer. There is no reason to respond at all, I suppose. If I knew how to turn off comments, I might, for this post is just for me. This kind of post is really the reason I started writing in the first palce - to diarize the moment, to express the inside goings-on that occur even asa life proceeds at breakneck pace.
I have kept a diary for 35 years. In those first few small lined books I poured my heart and soul; initially as an angst-filled teenager, then as a young woman finding herself, then through life change after change. Moments of deep sadness, anger, joy, love, disappointment were captured and are still held on their pages, a snapshot of those times that have made me who I am now.
This blog has gone through changes as well. In 3+ years it's gone from online diary to a story-telling space to an outright ploy for noteriety, to burden, to friend-maker to, most recently, curious appendage with no particular pupose. NAY isn't a humor blog (witness this post), it's not a writing blog (again, this post?), it's not a vehicle for world fame (something for which I have no explanation). It's just a bit of me; something I think I've forgotten recently and thus had populated with posts full of nothing more substantial than foam, nothing more meaty than air. They have been disappointing posts, and I apologize.
Perhaps a change is in the air. I don't know. For today, this is the 'me' I'm feeling. Introspective, grateful, aware of purpose and duty, loving the bright world, aiming once again to become something more.
And I 'll get right on it, right after I finish those three most important things that simply MUST be done.