Haste Makes Waste and all that….

I have the day off. Like, REALLY off.

My son is at school. My daughter is at day care for the morning (Nanny has class Thursday AMs). And I am here at home. And anyone who thinks that is shitty and selfish? Hmm… yeah… you probably don’t read this blog anyway. LOL

I have about 4 hours allllll to myself.

And I found myself thinking this morning…

Shit. OK, I need to hurry up and blog. And get through my blog roll. And get laundry done. And maybe I can squeeze in a couple of my month old soaps on TiVo. And, crap, I’m going to have write a short post. And probably skip the forum. And, dammit Britt, come up with a post faster!!!!

And then I read NYC’s post about hasting and wasting.

And I realized how fucking RIDICULOUS I was getting to be.

The very reason I took this time for myself is because the last two weeks have been constant psycho stress for me. Go here, do this, go there, fix that, check that off the list, put out that fire. Go! Go! Go Faster!!!

And I realized this morning that my brain was stuck on psycho gear.

Stop. Breathe. Relax….

(this would be much more relaxing if I could smoke in my house while I type… oooh… I’m going to take my laptop out to my smoking deck, hang on….)

I’m back. I am sitting out on my enclosed, but not-insulated front porch and it is about zero degrees here in Bum-Fuck-Hell. I have on a coat, hat and scarf, I have two heaters blasting at me and I look foolish. But I am blogging. And smoking.

And it is DIVINE.

I was going to blog today about how I feel out of whack lately, not quite sure again about who I am and what I stand for and all that shit. But you know what? This really helps.
I can actually FEEL the balance washing over me. Man I needed this.

So I’m going to just sit back and settle in. I’m not going to worry about if I get 5 loads of laundry done this morning, or the rug vaccuumed, or anything else. There will be plenty of time for all of that later.

I am going to enjoy myself. I’m going to read ALL of my blogs. I’m going to just sit here and do whatever the hell I want. And maybe even catch Amy on IM to make some good blog fodder for this.

And for once, these four hours, this TIME will not be my enemy.

(Although, did any of you ever notice how often I start a sentence with “And”? And to think I was once an English major. Fuck. I just did it again.)

Edited to add: OK, someone is really fucking with me. I hit publish on this post and simultaneously blew every fucking fuse out on this damn porch. So I reset the fuses, I’m down to one heater… but the post is still here. Relaxation back on. Come hell or high water or electrical fire.

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