Tagged: beinglizardek

What is wrong with this picture? Anders and the kids left this morning for overnight scout camp. It is sunny, blue-skied and breezy out. I can hear birds singing from all directions because all the windows are open. Loud and cheerful music is playing on my stereo. I am inside: deep spring cleaning. *** I shall stop soon and go for a walk. I may also, at some point, feel the urge to make a bullet-point list of my cleaning accomplishments here because that way I increase the chances of getting some applause for a job well-done, which I will...

I want to write, but I can’t seem to get going. I can’t seem to find a subject or a story or a line of words in a row that will stoke the engine and prime the pump. Have I run out of words or just out of steam? Maybe I’m just in reading mode. Maybe I have lost a part or worn it out. There’s no ork in me. I like the word ork. I can’t even think what the correct translation is in English. It’s not really motivation, and it’s not really energy, although it has elements of...

What I want and what I give myself are not the same things, most of the time, and to my chagrin. What I really want, more than anything else, RIGHT NOW, right this minute, is to fall asleep and slumber darksomely without interruption for 24 hours. At least. At the very, very least. I suspect 3 days of solid sleep would be even better and go much further toward restoring me to my true self. A self that is relaxed, gentle, generous, motivated, amusing, creative, sexy and efficient. Also, fair of face. Also, full of grace. Also, able to leap...

Did you know what you wanted to be when you grew up? Did you know what you wanted to do with your life? Did you have a plan? Have you followed it or has it veered unexpectedly? I never did. I still don’t. It’s not that I don’t like who and where I am, but these days I feel I have lost a way I never knew I was on. Or else I’m veering.* Which way is the real question, though. Which way? Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: On End *or else I’m tired.

Having a work laptop at home is not good. Well, I mean it is good for getting WORK done. But here it is Saturday night at 10 p.m. and I have been working since 1 p.m., nearly nonstop. With only mini-breaks for a load of laundry, dinner and a walk to the nursery to buy potted purple tulips and a glorious golden-orange begonia, and to write this journal entry. I have had a headache for nearly 24 hours because I picked up new eyeglasses yesterday. I was not amused last November when I finally got new glasses after 4 years...

I fight my inner packrat constantly. I can’t remember if it was before or after my father died that my mom told us that he, a notorious and shameless packrat of the First Order, had refused to throw away, among other equally horrifying things, boxes of moldy college textbooks from the 60s that had been caught in a basement-flooding years ago and 10-year old road maps and box after box of computer cables and ports and parts. Boxes of pens. Boxes of paper. Boxes of old magazines. I don’t think my father ever threw anything away that he thought might...

The inside of my elbow joints hurt when I straighten my arms. Is it: a) a sign of too much online journaling b) a sign of too much web-surfing c) a sign of too much work on the computer (yes, I do actually do work at the computer) d) a sign of rain e) a sign of aging f) a sign of stress g) all of the above h) tennis elbow. shut up! It could happen. I have my work laptop set up on the dining room table and I am flitting (yes! flit! flutter!) back and forth between the...