Sometimes I look into my thoughts, and there’s not much there of a coherent nature. It’s mostly, “remember to do this, time to do that, don’t forget about such and such, plan ahead for that other thing . . .”
Everything I look at reminds me of something. Water that plant. Clean that spot off of the kitchen floor. Fill the car tire again, because it seems to have a slow leak, and eventually I’ll be sorry that I’m not doing something about that, but maybe it can hold on until . . .
And it gets overwhelming. I guess we all know what that feels like. Makes a person want to walk off into the forest and live off of berries. The forest doesn’t want to be cleaned and it’s tires never go flat.
The holidays are approaching. Oh dear. Get out the decorations. Think about presents. Figure out what to do about the fact that everyone in our household is suffering from clinical depression, except for me and the dog, and that this will complicate the holidays. Try not to fall into clinical depression. Just go for the occasional sad moment here and there in stead.
Now Julia wants to know what I’m doing. Our nest is full, and our birds are needy, and not likely to fly any time soon.
Oh, the forest!
I suppose if I continue to not get around to trimming back the various vines and things in the yard, they’ll grow to cover the house and we can live in the forest right here, maybe plant some things in the kitchen floor which will be so dirty at that point it will be fine for raising red wood trees . . . .
Got to go.