Try as I might I cannot cobble together a post that is worthy of your time. I cannot summon whatever it is that I need to summon. There is no news. Nothing worthy of the pixels. At least, I think there is nothing worthy.
It’s not for lack of trying. Twice now I’ve started a post about the wallpapering project. Twice I’ve abandoned same. I get part way through trying to tell you about how I asked him to cover the furnishings if he was going to use a sander; how, when he asked me to help him with the sanding (my job was to hold the vacuum hose to suck up the flying plaster dust) I came into the house and the air was choked with that very same plaster dust, and he had not protected anything… I fought back tears and I swallowed my anger and I …
No wait. That’s not accurate. I was only mildly dismayed. That’s all. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t cry. I was perturbed, nothing more.
What the hell? This is where, if I was sitting next to myself, I’d say, “Who are you and what have you done with Maggie?”
These last several weeks, I have been “weatherless” as John Barth wrote. I got nothing. Does it mean that I have grown emotionally and have learned to avoid anger? Or does it mean what John Barth meant: I am listless, unmotivated, not going anywhere?
*you will note he blends into the walls. Camo fleece-wear courtesy Canadian Tire.