Work is Work
I was reading Harsh Cry of the Heron the other day when the Harry Potter book came my way via my Aunt. I decided to put Heron away in favor of the HP one. The night was young so I took the liberty of tearing into the book. 100 pages later, I fell asleep.
The days have been filled with much of the same: pleasant and not-so-pleasant distractions. I have problems trying to remember what's coming next, and my work inflicted ADD makes things more interesting as I try to figure out what to do next. I'm not really supposed to be blogging right now. I'm sure there's a project that needs to get done. I'm sure of it.
Staring out the window of my office now, I hear the rumble of jack hammers, and by now you'd think I'd be over it, but it's like going to the dentist every day. Even the back of my mouth fills with spit just thinking of it. I'm trying to come to a sense of where I am, and it feels like there's no purpose, no rhyme, no reason. I hate days like this. If only there was a direction to the madness, and if only there was a plan that I could work off of. I take a deep breath and think that there's something wrong with iTunes, and I switch on the shuffle mode. There, that's better.
The good news is that the kids are coming back soon, and that makes the world a little different, that is, it's going to be different around the office. The bad news is that it's work. Just kidding. i love me some work. Just means I have to switch gears. I am enjoying the time I have now; I have tons of creative time. But that might have to go on the back burner later when they get back.
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Keep in your prayers my Father in Law who is in the hospital.
Thanks,
Voodoo