Everything is so hard today. It's probably not a good day to try to do anything. But I did have all of these plans.
Like for example, I was supposed to get up at 5:50 so I could leave at 6:00 to go pick huckleberries with very industrious friends of mine. Lucky for me, my back, and front, and all sides of me, hurt so badly by 4:30 AM that I was able to get out of it. So I finally crawled painfully out of bed around 9:00 and noticed all of the Other Things that I needed to do. Like folding laundry. And vacuuming. And Eating Breakfast. It's all so hard. I don't even want to put a bra on. It's just too much work.
So then I think that maybe I can be productive by working on a new website for myself, where I will post new and wonderful things that everyone and their dog wants to read. I will become an instant online celebrity and can traipse through life just making people giggle in 20 minutes a day or less. But the new website thing is so hard. And confusing. And requires creativity. And I seem to have just run out of that. The cool thing about the website plan, unlike vacuuming, is that I could do it from one spot on the couch and not move. But when I realized that I would have to engage my brain and develop something that anyone besides my mother would ever care to look at, I felt like crying and going back to bed. Why is everything So Hard?
I keep thinking that I will hop on my Cute and Cheery bicycle and peddle over to the post office, where I can pick up several bills and a rejection letter from the medical insurance people. Then I could peddle over to the store and get myself an enema and some beer. Then I could go visit one of my friends and I would suddenly remember that I didn't have a bra on and peddle home shamefacedly with my enema and my rejection letter. Oh, it's so hard.
I did manage to get coffee mustered up. It wasn't so much of a plan as an Absolute Requirement For Living. Kind of like the enema. And the beer.
I have to admit that having my car in the shop for a few days is nice because I can use it as an excuse to not go anywhere. I tried to use it when Josh asked if I wanted to go to work with him today but it didn't fly, since I could ride with him. Luckily I was writhing in pain, so he quickly came to his own conclusion that maybe I should stay home and vacuum. At this point, my plan is to quit planning and just unfurl myself from the couch and start taking staggering, baby-zombie steps towards the bra that lies where I left it on the floor last night and just do this day. But it's so hard.