Grasping
This morning finds me feeling lost and unfocused. Aside from placing the dumpster which is scheduled for delivery this morning, I really don't know what to do with this day. There is no shortage of work to be done, but . . . I am feeling ripe for hopping from one chore to the next without finishing any of them. I leave more messes than accomplishments when I do that, even before we count the lost tools. When I am unfocused, nothing is usually the most productive thing I can do. There is such a thing as trying too hard.
In actual fact, just getting the random trash around the job site into that over-due dumpster will be a sizeable chore, all by itself, especially for a lone laborer. I still haven't resolved the isolation issue. Can I grumble about my aging bones now?
Nothing is decided yet, but tomorrow is Eldest Son's 37th birthday. I am leaving myself open to driving back for whatever celebrations might materialize. Our family is the absolute pits in planning the calendar celebrations, but somehow we don't miss too many.
Replies
Mission aborted. No dumpster delivery today. Turns out the young woman who took my order did not realize we are outside their service area until this morning when the route driver refused the order. Back to the drawing board on that one. The lack of focus has escalated to full out anxiety attacks. Looks like today is shaping up to be a therapy day. I think my charrangos are calling me.
!Wayay-ay-ay-ay!