The morning slips away. I get up early, I work out, I have breakfast with the kids and see them off to school intact, and then I nap. I have to nap. If the nap is left out of the equation, a fog descends. Napping is a strange occupation, almost similar to meditation. I slip into liminal consciousness and sense myself mulling over problems or concerns. When my time’s up (I set my interior alarm, a surprisingly effective system), I wake and spring upright. And go on with my day.
Today it seems there’s much to do in little time. It’s a half-day work-day. And I have things to do, scattered bits here and there. But I can’t seem to get rolling on anything in particular. I know I’m not using this limited time terribly efficiently. Maybe it would be a better use of my morning to go outside with my camera and take photos of the crocuses blooming in our back yard. Or the tiger lilies already poking their stems through the earth. Or to hang a load of laundry (yes, in March; it’s that warm). Or to start supper.
But instead, I sit here in my office … and wait …
**Juliet news** I have to share this beautiful response to The Juliet Stories by my literary friend Heather Birrell. I was honoured to be an early reader of the manuscript that would become her second book, Mad Hope, which is just being published RIGHT NOW! Look for it. We’ll be reading together at a few events this spring. More info to come.