Do you ever feel like if you don’t speak, write or scream you may explode? And you’re not exactly sure what you want to say? Or write? Or scream? That’s how I’ve felt most of this pleasant Sunday morning. Something itching under the surface, roiling under the skin and slamming around the edges of my skull. It’s maddening actually, because it isn’t tangible. It’s just……there.

I think maybe it’s because I’ve not written much the last couple of years. Constipation of the creative self so to speak. Bound to be ugly and uncomfortable. I think maybe it’s due to compartmentalization of life. I have a work box. I have a home box. I have a friend box. And a wife box. And a 4-H leader box. And a home school teacher box. And a housekeeper box. And an animal tender box. And a Jesus box. And a worrier box. And a daughter/sister/niece/grand daughter box. Mom box. Diet box. Baker box. An ‘I-should-not-have-said-yes-to-that-but-I-did-and-now-I’m-stuck’ box. And all the boxes are different sizes and shapes and colors and it feels like none of them are properly stacked and I want to just throw all that shit in the middle of the floor and sort it out, creating a giant give-away pile and keeping only that which makes me happy. Like all those Japanese minimalists or whoever came up with that. Maybe it was the Swedes. Works great for tangible possessions, not so great in life itself. Addie said when she was about 3 years old that “The monkey in my brain keeping putting things in the wrong drawers.” Pretty sure that monkey moved into the empty space that is my head. Damn monkey.

I am still not sure what my point is, but I do feel slightly better. I think I need to spent less time on Facebook and more time here. I think I need to re-read ‘The Best Yes’, and remind myself, every time I say “YES!” to one thing, I am saying “No” to something else. It’s a great book. My friend Amanda gave it to me in an attempt to teach me the art of saying no. Guess I’m a slow learner. Pushing away of self, while a good thing sometimes, leads to discontent at other times. Take this computer I’m typing on for example. Our family has 1 computer and it is normally being used by someone other than me. Sure, I could ask for a turn, but knowing someone would be waiting for me to finish, well, that’s a creativity killer if I ever knew one. I think I’ll start saving for a laptop of my very own, so I can write when I feel like it. And then maybe my boxes will stay stacked more properly. And, by the way, I know you can’t put Jesus in a box, I was making a point. I think if I met Hugh Jackman this would all go away and all my problems would be sorted out. Yes, I am certain of it. New Goal.

Oh look, there he is on Pandora, I gotta go………

Hugh Jackman is not behind this door. It is the back door of an antique mall in my hometown. But I’d like to think he COULD be behind the door. Stranger things have happened.