Some Evenings

I had declared that I was going to post to my blog every day. Yup, every day. Well, here it is days and days since my last post and I have been derelict of duty. But some evenings….some evenings…I find all I want to do is sit here. Oh, I’ve done some laundry. I cleaned up the kitchen. I made soup (Spicy Carrot Peanut Soup).  Mostly, though, I’m listening to music and not too much else. OK, I ran the vacuum cleaner too.  I guess I haven’t “done nothing.” 

It’s funny how it’s easy to lose track of what you accomplish. I’m feeling very nonproductive but if I look around, I have been doing things. But since the house isn’t perfect and there are still things that are undone, I say “I have done nothing.”  Is that the modern woman’s theme? We still feel compelled to be June Cleaver as well as Murphy Brown and when each task isn’t accomplished, we are “unproductive” in our own estimation. Huh. Stuff to ponder.

I can only assume that part of my dissatisfaction is knowing that I will be having out-of-town visitors on Thursday night and my house isn’t right out of Better Homes & Gardens. I’m reconciling myself to that but it’s difficult. I do work fulltime plus a heavy duty commute.  I guess if I felt very accomplished at work, I’d feel better about home. But my work life has a certain futility about it; two steps forward, four steps back. That’s just not my words, but the words of another director I spoke with today. She’s been there 30 years. I ask her “when does it get better, Jeanne?”  She gave me a wry smile, gazed off into the distance and replied, “Hmmm…”  Apparently she’s still waiting.

Now I have to run, though. A girlfriend just found a packet of poems in her daughter’s room. Mostly suicidal kinda stuff. Maybe just teenage angst but best to check it out.

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