I think I'll blame it on the cold dark winter weather we have here in Wisconsin.
Or maybe it's a lack of sleep.
Or maybe not enough coffee and Diet Coke to keep me moving.
Perhaps it's the post holiday crashing.
It could be the chunks of relative quiet.
Whatever it is, I'm stuck.
I'm having a day where I just can't get moving.
It's not like there aren't things to do. Quite the opposite in fact. It's pretty easy to walk from room to room and see the endless overwhelming list of things that need to be done and the longer list of things on my wish list to complete.
Like all through the house, the holiday is still up, begging to be boxed up and sent back to the basement. Not interested, no thanks, not today.
There are breakfast dishes quietly sitting in the sink waiting for their turn in the dish washer. I'll get there, really, I will.
The mommy pile is out of control. Papers are launching themselves out of it regularily. The sorting is comming soon, I'm sure of it.
My white walls are wailing for their dose of color that sits idle in cans in storage. In my mind I can see it all finished, so I know it will happen.
The clean folded laundry is waiting to mingle in drawers. There are story ideas waiting to be put into words. Phone calls need to be placed. Blankets finished. Sitters arranged. Documents to fill in. Bathrooms to bleach. Floors to mop. Books waiting to be read. A house full of stuff to be sorted, junked and donated. Dust to be dusted away. Hair styling needed, massage wanted. Games and puzzles need their pieces sorted.
My lists of lists could go on and on.
Usually, I'm not paralyzed by them, but I have my days. I want to just sit. To sigh a little. To breath in the silence.