Today is one of those days that I dread. It's beautiful outside, in fact, it's your perfect summer day - cotton blue skies, green grass, and warm ocean air. No matter how chipper the birds are, I am discontent.
My brain is numb. Have you ever tried reading a book, but you end up reading one sentence over and over, and no matter how hard you try, you can't remember what the sentence was? That is today for me. Sesame Street, temper tantrums, and potty training have filled up every intellectually stimulating recess of my mind, and I feel like I am going to go mad.
My house is decently clean. We made a stop at the craft store yesterday and got me some tiny crochet hooks so I can attempt a new project I've been itching to get my hands on, or a few books I've been meaning to read. I've been longing to sit down and write. I've got a basket of laundry sitting on top of the chest freezer begging to be folded and put away. There's plenty for me to do, but I can't seem to get my brain turned on enough to do anyone of them. I have a list of excuses a mile long - as soon as I start crocheting or reading, Ayslyn will wake up. I can't write when I don't have more than 2 minutes at a time to be focused. I can't, I can't, I can't.
I've come to live by the following philosophy: the times when I absolutely don't want to do something are the times that I absoluely should.
The only way I can see busting through this mental block is by DOING. I'm going to get up off my butt and drink some V8, then I'm going to fold the laundry. I'm going to do some sit ups and arm curls (exercise always seems to get my brain to turn over). Then I'm going to write a little bit, even if it's absolute junk and I delete the whole thing. The point is, I am going to DO.