I meant to post last night and the night before. In fact, the night before that.
Tonight, when I intended to set aside time to blogging, I ran a deep bath and spent a long time wallowing in the warm water whilst reading pages I’d torn from colour supplements over the last few months. I have a small pile of torn pages. I never seem to get round to reading them.
I gave up NaPoBloMo last week. I didn’t have time to read other blogs and if I can’t read other blogs and I can’t expect anyone to read mine and because last week was just too complicated. A roller coaster of rental complications. I struggled to string a sentence together in conversation. I decided I was beyond using my fingers and my head in combination and frankly I was bored with it all. I couldn’t think beyond the packing box and a time when I wanted to think completely out of the box, packing or otherwise. My energy levels and imagination failed me. Unfortunately, dear reader I am still limited by packing boxes.
This post started life a few days ago as waving not drowning. I wanted to wave hello. I’m still here. I’ve not drowned in packing boxes and I’ve not. Mainly, because of LISTS. I have lists for everything. I cannot hold a thought in my head, everything has to go on a list. Overall lists, daily lists, morning lists, afternoon lists. Moving lists. Party lists. Christmas Lists. I am waving lists.
Christmas is brought and wrapped in sits in a box marked Christmas and for a moment I was glad my son can’t yet read. If that box goes, then there goes Christmas. A whole list ticked off. Accomplishment is a good feeling.
The party lists have not yet borne fruit. They are still yet to be ticked. I have a balloons, I have a disco ball and various other party items. All listed. I have a hit list of parents who failed to respond to my invite and whom I don’t know well enough to harass. I do admit to thinking bad things about them when I look at my party bag list. The perils of asking the whole class (and some).
This is the party playlist based on requests from local 4 and 5 year olds;
The Beatles. The ballad of John and Yoko.
Marc Almond. Brave boy.
Steely Dan. Peg.
Boney M. Brown Girl in the Ring
Songs from the Jungle Book.
Carly Rae Jepson. Call me maybe.
The great big turnip
I’m a little worried about mixing them seamlessly one into the other.
I am expecting 40 (without the non-repliers). My party list is; musical bumps, musical statues, pass the parcel and dead donkeys. Some disco dancing (additional suggestions very welcome).
Today I spent working my way down a list of utilities providers. Wading through layers of websites and automated phone systems. Digging out customer references from piles of old bills. Soul destroying.
A friend dropped in and brought chocolate cake. The joy of good friends and here’s me abandoning all that. Not even a third slice of cake dislodged the feeling of unease.
In summary. I am a very tired person, from tired town but I have lists and some of the colour supplement pages to left read. And I have chocolate cake and that makes it all OK.