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Copyright 2009-2010 by
Mary Brotherton
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Inside my Brain

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Thursday, August 08, 2002

Decisions! Decisions!

Some days, I am not sure which I want to do more, read everyone else's blogs or write my own. This week, being on "mandatory vacation" with no where to go, and all the prioritized errands completed, I am left with basically three things to do: write, read/research, and organinze that file cabinet that has been ignored far too long. Look where I am! The files are just jumbling amonst themselves, becomming more disorganized while I am out here, alone, listening to my Trance, clicking from one blogger to the next, until I get blogged down and can't seem to find my way out. I have to take it easy. I have a tendency to overdo any new thing that I try. When I was told I should exercise, I joined an aerobics class....stopped after the second week with a pulled hamstring. I was told I should just walk and not try so hard. Ten minutes seemed too little, so I tried half an hour. I was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf by the time I got home! "Ok," I told myself. "Just take it a bit easy and don't walk so fast next time." Slow walking gave me too much time to think, and I ended up sitting on the side of the street, with my notepad and started jotting down story ideas.

That brings me to another tangent. If you ever see me without a book to read and something to write with/on, you will know that there is something dreadfully amiss! I have notepads and pens in every single room of my home, in my purse, in my car, and basically every other place that I might be. I cannot stand the idea of being somewhere for five minutes and not able to jot down ideas that come to me. Once, I was in such a situation, and I used my fingernail to scratch shorthand on my arm. My bedside table has pens, papers, and a recorder, although I don't often use the recorder. If I ever awaken with an idea, or a dream that bears remembering, I have found that if I - DadJimmit!! I just remembered something that I wrote and would love to share, but don't have a clue where I stashed it. I'll have to find it and publish it later. Back to my rambling: If I try to move after a dream, it flitters away from me faster than a butterfly. I have attempted to record my dreams, and as soon as I hear my own voice, I lose the dream. I have tried to type my dreams, but the noise of the computer waking up also wakes up that part of me that forgets dreams. Instead, with as few motions as possible, I stumble and stutter until I find my pen and paper. I have contorted my body into some amazingly peculiar postions in order to write while remembering. When I do, I am praying that my writing, which is usually atrocious, is at least legible in the morning.

I have so many files that need my attention, both on the computer and in that accursed cabinet! Like a ghost, they are haunting me, teasing me, tempting me to go and straighten them out! Like a Siren, they are calling me, telling me how wonderful life would be if only we were organized together. Suggesting that my week would be fulfilled if only I accomplished one more task, if only I could cross off "organize my files" from my To Do list. I suppose it won't hurt to go through one folder.