An Ordinary Day
It's been so long since I've had an ordinary day that I can't be entirely sure whether I'm a wee bit high or not. After enjoying a whopping three hours of sleep last night, I've had a rather productive day...well, comparatively anyway.
I scrubbed my tub and toilets, cleaned my bathroom, repaired my vacuum cleaner and vacuumed, dusted all of my tables, cleaned all of my mirrors, cleaned my living room and bedroom, emptied and reloaded my dishwasher, cleaned out my car, cleaned off my desk, dusted the doors in front of my washer and dryer (picture blinds, it was a pain in the butt), cleaned the intake duct to my airconditioner, swiffered the corners of some of my ceilings, dusted off my my pictures and took out the garbage and recycling. I started working on a workbook for depression, but sitting down and trying to focus on it was nearly unbearable. I hung up inspirational quotes around the house and cleaned my TVs and computers. I posted a couple of comments on Brendan's website, read several news sites, went and grabbed lunch through a drive-thru and brushed my dog.
Right now, I've settled down to watch the news, but I'm already restless again. If it weren't so frickin hot outside, I'd be working on resuscitating my backyard (which is full of dead plants that unfortunately did not survive my depression). I'm a little irritable and I don't want stop working. I figure that I'll sweep my floors, swiffer them, and the run out a pick up Brendan from the airport. I'll probably drag him to the dog park and then come home to start our laundry.
I need to give Brendan my credit cards and all of the important pieces of my wallet aside from my ID and my psychiatrist's business card. I figure that he can give me money from my account as I need it for expenses. I just can't afford to run off to Target, buying new movies, CDs, books, alarm clocks, computer games, hair care products, candles and maybe a new vacuum cleaner. I'm practically salivating over the notion of getting a bagless vacuum because I could vacuum everyday for awhile to get some of the stubborn dirt off the carpet. My old vacuum is on its last legs. It gasps and sputters pathetically.
Sitting down to type like this is nearly killing me. I keep typing and doing something and then coming back and doing something else. I can't sit still long enough to write anything longer than a few sentences.
I wish I could say that my mind is clear, my ideas beautiful and my inspiration unyielding, but it's not true. I'm more annoyed that anything else and being busy distracts me from the gnawing irritation flowing through my veins. It makes my hands shake when I try to sit still.
So, voting public, do I sound normal? A wee bit manic? Depressed?
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I scrubbed my tub and toilets, cleaned my bathroom, repaired my vacuum cleaner and vacuumed, dusted all of my tables, cleaned all of my mirrors, cleaned my living room and bedroom, emptied and reloaded my dishwasher, cleaned out my car, cleaned off my desk, dusted the doors in front of my washer and dryer (picture blinds, it was a pain in the butt), cleaned the intake duct to my airconditioner, swiffered the corners of some of my ceilings, dusted off my my pictures and took out the garbage and recycling. I started working on a workbook for depression, but sitting down and trying to focus on it was nearly unbearable. I hung up inspirational quotes around the house and cleaned my TVs and computers. I posted a couple of comments on Brendan's website, read several news sites, went and grabbed lunch through a drive-thru and brushed my dog.
Right now, I've settled down to watch the news, but I'm already restless again. If it weren't so frickin hot outside, I'd be working on resuscitating my backyard (which is full of dead plants that unfortunately did not survive my depression). I'm a little irritable and I don't want stop working. I figure that I'll sweep my floors, swiffer them, and the run out a pick up Brendan from the airport. I'll probably drag him to the dog park and then come home to start our laundry.
I need to give Brendan my credit cards and all of the important pieces of my wallet aside from my ID and my psychiatrist's business card. I figure that he can give me money from my account as I need it for expenses. I just can't afford to run off to Target, buying new movies, CDs, books, alarm clocks, computer games, hair care products, candles and maybe a new vacuum cleaner. I'm practically salivating over the notion of getting a bagless vacuum because I could vacuum everyday for awhile to get some of the stubborn dirt off the carpet. My old vacuum is on its last legs. It gasps and sputters pathetically.
Sitting down to type like this is nearly killing me. I keep typing and doing something and then coming back and doing something else. I can't sit still long enough to write anything longer than a few sentences.
I wish I could say that my mind is clear, my ideas beautiful and my inspiration unyielding, but it's not true. I'm more annoyed that anything else and being busy distracts me from the gnawing irritation flowing through my veins. It makes my hands shake when I try to sit still.
So, voting public, do I sound normal? A wee bit manic? Depressed?
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posted by Becky at 5:32 PM
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