You would think with school being out I'd be a little more relaxed...instead I'm bustling about through one task to another project, hopelessly chasing my tail, and pacing the house in utter restlessness.
Yesterday, I began a sketch book...only with my lack of drawing skills its morphing into more of a scrapbook type deal.
The day before, I came home from work--to clean my bathtub. I scrubbed. I used a toothbrush.I inhaled what's probably considered too much bleach. And rather then taking the time to enjoy my amazingly shiny and sterile work by immersing myself beneath lavender bubbles, I opted to do the dishes. My laundry.And Laura's laundry.
I have spent hours on the piano. Hours on the internet--Christmas shopping.Hours walking dogs that don't belong to me. Hours of frivolousness. But nothing compares to the hours I spent Monday (my official day of freedom) on MATA bus 285.
It was too tempting. If the bus would have just stopped a few feet further down Walker Avenue instead of blocking my path to the parking lot, time would have passed differently. But I was finished with classes, with finals, with thinking about birth control and its relations to chemistry. I was liberated. And the bus door was ajar. And the driver was smiling. And there was no hesitation.
I rode. I people watched. I thought. I learned Ms.Gerda's entire bus route. But I didn't come out any different a person, as I think I hoped for. There were no lessons or secrets learned. Just time spent, doing everything but what I've been avoiding.
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