Michelle's House of Horrors

As I got ready to leave work Friday afternoon, I was suddenly quite excited to realize that I do not have any plans this weekend. A lot of people would think that’s a shame, but not me. I am really looking forward to just doing whatever.

Reading, watching a movie or listening to music.
Getting a key made for someone.
Drinking hot tea.
Staring into candles.
A drive to the beach.

Somehow the house is relatively clean, so I can skate on housework.
I can do whatever I want.

Even if what I want is…nothing in particular.

I am very behind in my reading…
I could start now.

Ooh! Or should I watch a movie?

I will make a cup if tea to help me decide.

Movie.
It was a good choice.
Merci, mon Capitaine.

Will anyone be surprised that I find everything surprising? I seem to muddle through life in a constant state of surprised amazement. What does that say about me? That I appreciate everyday magic? That I just don’t notice things until they go all blammo?

Sunrises, sunsets
Kindness
Light on the water
The roar of the crowd at Autzen
Smiles
Laughter
Wind rustling leaves
Music
Books
Unexpected 53 minute phone calls
The stillness of the air when you go up in a balloon
How it’s suddenly dark when I go to work in the morning this week
How good clean sheets feel
Catching someone looking at you..like that

Several times a day, I find myself saying “wow” about something. It might be anything. It might be nothing. Crossing the street, seeing a particularly interesting shadow, or the way a yellow leaf stains the sidewalk after it rains.

I’m not sure it’s really congruous with the way I overthink everything, but it means I smile for no particular reason a lot.

Wonder.

It is a very good thing.

Dain bramage. I have dain bramage. From financial paperwork. And overthinking my personal life. And general mental overload.

So I am going to take a day off. No writing.
Except for the writing that I did earlier today which doesn’t count because it is not for public viewing.

Here’s the plan:

First I am going to curl up on the sofa and stare at a wall for a while.

Then I am going to listen to some music and continue to stare at a wall. Maybe a different wall.

Then I will turn the music down and try to read something. If that fails, I will go back to step one.

Some of you may be thinking that this does not sound like a productive way to spend the evening. You are wrong. I have already made peace with a loved one, filled out a mortgage application complete with eleventeenthousand pieces of documentation, and been attacked by an enormous white spider.

It’s been quite a night.

Which wall should I stare at first?
Maybe I should light some candles.
I like candles.

Shut up.
Writing about how I am not going to write doesn’t count as writing.