Write What You Woe

So it’s Saturday again. The house is relatively clean. The yard is somewhat under control, and, given the huge dump of rain last night, inaccessible. And I am faced with an entire day to accomplish something.

I could write. That sounds wonderful. I did have a tooth pulled two days ago, and the thought of spending a day inside my head, instead of grinding my jaw in some physical effort, perhaps with a bottle of wine – or whatever else happens to need finishing in the fridge – is nothing short of titillating.

IMG_1760But alas, from where I sit with my laptop, I cannot seem to avoid the pile of crap that is my desk, peeking at me from over my screen. How can I possibly string two thoughts together with that screaming at me. Worse, at the bottom of the heap, is my budget and banking file, sobbing woefully from neglect. I should work on that today.

But to do that, I have to wade through the mess, tidy and file, sign and read, and make room for the process that keeps this whole place running.

When I designed the cabinet that houses my desk, it was with the intent to also build a rolling cart that fits perfectly under the counter, perfectly embracing everything from pens and markers, to printer and paper. The cart rolls out when I’m working, and back in when I’m not, without my having to put everything away each time.

Of course, I could build the cart today. If the garage was cleaned out. My little home away from home got away from me again this summer, what with the distraction of a cross-country trip and all. It needs a dump run. And a lumber cart.

I have designed a perfect lumber cart that will hold and keep sorted all of the scrap lumber, piping, and sheet panels I have collected over the years. In fact, I have enough scrap lumber, piping, and sheet panels to build said cart. I just can’t get at it because it’s buried throughout the garage, unorganized, and wishing it had a nice cart on which to wait for my next burst of inspiration.

Thankfully, though, the drawings and materials list to build the lumber cart are easily at hand, buried somewhere on my desk. I will find them, as soon as I move everything into my new desk cart. Which I can build as soon as I clean out the garage. Which I will do as soon as I build the lumber cart.

In the end, it’s probably just as well that I have the incredibly impressive ability to type with my eyes closed.

A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I’ll go with white wine, though. Just in case I tip the glass while feeling around in the dark. I’m pretty sure the steam-cleaner’s in the garage, too.

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