loony
My brain has gone down the drain. I am not capable of holding a list in my head. Lists all over the house now.
I had to buy spinach at the store. My list said spinach not one not two not three but four times.
This morning I am trying to organize my day: I have a thought, I go to write it down, and by the time I get to the paper the thought is gone. Gone. I open a new window on my computer screen in order to write here, but I see my homepage and can’t remember what I was going to do.
This morning I boiled an empty pot for five minutes, waiting patiently for tea.
It has been a mellow couple of weeks after a storm of activity. I was in pain that the doctors determined was simply round ligament pain exacerbated by overworking and overlifting, but it kept me in bed for four days straight, on my left side, my computer tilted sideways, the charger popping out, popping out, popping out of its socket. It is not as revitalizing as it sounds to lie down for four days. It is stultifying. The fogginess in my body and brain feeds on itself and then nothing gets done.
And there is sickness everywhere. One minute it’s my throat, then it’s Steve’s head, then Rosie’s home with what her mother thinks is a fever. Then her mother has the flu. Jack coughs continuously. I was helping him put on his halloween costume makeup and he coughed absentmindedly directly in my face. So I lay low, and drink my nourishing tea and take my vitamins, all of my energy going into making a baby in the most abstract sense — I’ve never seen it, I might just have gas, all I know is I’m tired and bloated and I’m not supposed to get sick.
Yesterday we threw open all the windows and went on the first walk we’d been on since before the bedrest. The world is glowing right now. It is positively gorgeous. It’s a time where I feel that a photograph would cheapen it, would turn it into an image made for a thrift store puzzle. I just like to look, feel my eyes try to adjust and make sense of how yellow the trees are in our backyard. I feel them working, thinking. My brain in the background is the ocean, swooping in and taking thoughts away.
