I was awake very early this morning, and I’m not sure why. I don’t remember now what I was dreaming about, and I usually do.
It’s 9am. I usually blog at night, before I go to sleep. But I’m still thinking about last night’s post. It’s more than silence I’m seeking. It’s less.
My current total boxes to the thrift shop: 11. I still have a small table, a small shelf unit, and the dining table and chairs I want to get rid of. But January’s clearing out was a success, and I’ve checked “get rid of half my stuff” off 2019’s todo list.
Because I’m up early, I could go to the weekly life drawing session at the community centre. It’s been months since I went last. But I’m struggling to justify the energy required.
I want to help my brain focus, stop casting my attention towards anything which sounds interesting. It’s what I’ve done my whole life. I am naturally curious and inherently obsessive. I have never been satisfied.
How will life drawing help me today? Would I be better served staying home to finish reading my current book instead? What about that email newsletter I keep telling myself is important, so important that I’ve put it on 2019’s list?
Now it’s 9:21. I’ve probably written myself out of my chance to catch the bus uptown. And next Friday, another chance will come along.