seven steps to the wall

Found it!  And to my great chagrin the lyric is "he" not "she" but it's a good song from the eighties.  I stalked Jane Siberry for a few summers back then.  She was pretty cool.
No actual video though, sorry.

A little agitato

There's a line from a Jane Siberry song that goes through my mind every now and then, pretty often actually.  It kind of sums up a feeling that I get from time to time.  I don't remember what the song is called and I'm not in the mood to hit up the Google machine right now, so I'll just tell you the line:  "She wants to write something down, she wants to sing a song or paint something".

I get that feeling of pent up creativity or art bubbling up inside.  And then what?  So many times I stifle it and stomp it down because life gets in the way.  I have too much drudgery to slog through before I can play.  I've always dreamt of going completely off my rocker so that the bonds that tether others to conform with society would no longer hold me and I could go off on the flights of fancy that beckon.  But I am a drone.  As much as I hate schedules and obligations I cannot escape them.  Now I suppose it's about balance. 

My quest is to find that ellusive balance.  Balance is not easy for me, I'm an all or nothing kind of chick. 

I hate my blog

Actually I don't hate my blog.  I hate myself for not being able to express myself properly on here.  I have a bazillion things going on inside of me and nothing comes out right.  I end up sounding whiny and/or sarcastic and bitchy.  I may have some of those qualities, but there's more going on in here than that.

Right now I am stressed to the gills by the fact that I haven't done my taxes in two years.  I keep returning to that panicked state of anxiety whenever I think about it.  And when I'm not thinking about it, the panic and anxiety are there, hovering.  When I am not thinking about my taxes it is only because I am not allowing myself to think about my taxes, so I'm really still thinking about my taxes, you know?  Probably not.

I'm wearing a bracelet that through the course of the day has become opressive.  It's bugging me.  But I can't take it off because I'm at work and I don't want to leave it here.

I really just want to go home, but it would be easier to stay here because if I go home there's too much to do.  Plus, I can't just go home, I have to stop at the grocery store and I should really go to the bank.  I can talk myself out of the bank because theoretically I could do that tomorrow.  Will I really do that tomorrow?  Who knows?  It kind of depends on a kajillion factors all of which are milling about in my head right now.

I am in constant negotiations with myself.  I have brought procrastination and justification and inertia to a whole new level.  For the last three days all I have done is play tetris.  Well mostly....I also did Mother's day at the ancestral home, walked the dog numerous times, cooked meals, did dishes, attended a theatrical performance as well as the daily drudgery of work.  I always go to work, no matter what.

There, that was a minute in my head.  Lucky you.

I am being used as a cautionary tale.

I have a  terrible habit of putting on shoes in a hurry and not wearing socks.  Usually I just think that I am not walking far so it won't matter and then I end up walking for an hour with dire consequences.

In the spring summer and fall I always have cuts or blisters on my feet.  The winter is so cold that my disregard for socks is over ridden by my quest to not die of frostbite.

Anyway, my 7 year old niece apparently has the same issue with socks.  I think we just don't have patience.  If we want to go, we want to go NOW.  I was at my parents for dinner on Sunday and so were my niece and her parents.  My most recent not wearing socks injury was very apparent as I was wearing cropped pants and flip flops.  Both of my ankles have big scabs on them from a rainy evening last week.  I came home from work and changed my clothes, then I decided to go outside and play with the dog.  I popped on a cute pair of ankle height rubber boots (sockless) and went outside.  It was so nice that I grabbed the leash and ended up taking the dog down to the river and back.  A trek that takes about an hour in total.  My ankles were bloody by the time I got home.  I was drenched to the skin, even my underwear was rain soaked.  It was an awesome walk.

My sister called my niece to her side and pointed at my injured ankles.  "Look at Auntie Penny's ankles, that's what happens when you don't wear socks."  My niece didn't really seem too impressed so my sister continued "Those scabs will probably get infected and then Auntie Penny will have to get her feet amputated, so you better wear socks from now on!"

My niece skipped away, hardly affected by the terrifying consequences that her dear Auntie Penny might be faced with.  I, however, was somewhat weirded out.  Sheesh.