New Leaf

Is it possible to take back what you've already done, said, a misstep (not necessarily yours), a deed?
The blog as battleground. I don't like it.
So, I pledge.
To myself, to not take myself too seriously, to switch it off sometimes, to just have fun (with myself, with my writing, with it ALL. This life, this universal plan, these utterances, these admittances {is that even a WORD?}).  I dunno..I just made it up.

I read some blogs that are dead on. Ones written by women raising whole families (how? how do they do that and even find time to string a sentence together? I ask this is the shadow of whole-hearted admiration, I, a woman who currently has a (somewhat) working dishwasher and two days worth of dishes in the sink. No joke).
If they can do it, then so can I.
After all, if this is writing practice, then I am entitled, sometimes, to learn as I go, to grope through the darkness punctuated with periods (however brief) of light, and just try. It's really all I can do.

So here it is, the end of Monday. My friend and I exchanged ecards today. That was it. They were funny, they were droll, they were cc'ed to other friends.
I put in a full workday, and, after planning to be that early-riser, I rolled over, circa 6 am and reset my alarm for 7, firmly and without hesitation. I relished that extra hour. It felt like three. It felt like heaven.
I got out of bed, stumbled, sleep-heavy, to the kitchen, to the waiting pot of water. Put the burner on, for French press coffee. Washed my hair, my face, threw my black silk robe on, that in-between of pajamas and work-clothes, that black back-drop I always use to apply make up, did that five-minute routine, then made coffee. Downed vitamins. Emails to work while wielding a hair-dryer. Ironed an outfit at warp speed. Stuffed my lunch into my work bag with a bottle of water. Took coffee to-go.

Headed northbound to my office, no traffic, the gods fully in cooperation. Listened to GnR in the car on the classic rock station. Marvelled that a human could make those sounds on a guitar.
Let my thoughts fly around, all about the car. I realize--it's a sunny, overly-hot-and-humid summer day, but I'm awake, alive, feeling....umm....good. Yea. On a Monday. And I HATE Mondays.

Made it through a stunningly fast work day (one where the a/c cut out about 3, not sure how I managed 3 more hours, but I did). Drove home. More 'no traffic'. Dinner. Leftovers. Writing out birthday cards and notes I have to mail. Sticking stamps on addressed envelopes. My tired eyes, tired now.
My blog. This record. Of sometimes boredom, of heartbreak, of a life being lived, of happiness.
Of light, of dark. Like a marriage. For better or worse. I try to get better.
It's all here people. One post at a time.

Thank you GB--for the perspective.