The Best Intentions

I had a day off from work last Monday. Is there anything as magical as a Monday off from work? Really, I think there is not — unless it’s a Friday off from work. And this day off was even more of a treasure, because it wasn’t a paid time off day. Oh no — it was a company holiday. I usually have the “Sunday Scaries” every week, or, at the very least, the “Sunday Sadness”. But not that weekend. On that weekend, as Sunday rolled around, I found myself looking forward to my entire day off from work on Monday.

Because, y’all … I had the Best Intentions.

That’s right. I had Intentions, and I had Plans. Like, big, big, big PLANS. I was going to let myself play Animal Crossing for a little bit. I was going to do some yard work. I was going to finish up the laundry that I started on Sunday evening. I was going to clear off our table and two countertops in the kitchen that have become way too cluttered. I was going to vacuum the floors in the living room and my office on the first floor. And, best of all: I was going to write! Finally!! I was determined to wrangle my Muse into some sort of good behavior and produce some type of fiction, after a dry spell that has been embarrassingly long. And, actually, the only thing I really, really wanted to do was the writing part of my plan. I hardly slept on Sunday night, just thinking about it and letting my brain whirl around with story ideas and plot points and character sketches.

You know what they say about the Best Intentions, right? Yeah — something about those nuggets of life and a road to somewhere unpleasantly warm …?

I started off strong, my friends. I dove into our perpetually cluttered table like a maniac. I was GONNA GET THAT SUCKER CLEARED (again … for the thousandth time). But it quickly became apparent that it was not to be. There were piles of paper that belong to my husband and daughter. There is a whole box of plastic silverware that, for some reason known only to him, my husband has decided to keep sitting out on the kitchen table. There are meds on the table and on the counters. And a sharps container now, too. And cleaning supplies that never get put away. I just … Well, I got overwhelmed by it all. And then, I got annoyed. And then, I felt sick to my stomach.

So, I told myself, I will do the yard, instead. And when I have accomplished that, I will come back and finish the table. Um … nope. I stepped outside into 88-degree heat and sun and humidity, and I knew, right away, that the yard was not happening. I should have gotten up at my usual work time and done the yard first thing in the morning. But, of course, I only had my “intentions”; I didn’t have an actual plan. I sighed heavily and came back inside with the knowledge that, for that day, the yard had won.

I did manage to get the laundry finished. I put the last load in the dryer, folded it and the load before it once everything was done, and gathered it all up into baskets that I took upstairs. So, I was able to cross at least that one thing off of my mental “to do” list.

But now, we come to the real crux of it all: The Writing. My Muse has been painfully absent from my life for about three years now. I know so many people were super creative during the Pandemic, but it didn’t work that way for me. And now, we are outside of the Pandemic and I am stuck in a rut that takes every ounce of mental energy I have to survive each day. I miss writing. I long for it in a way that makes me want to cry. I am determined to pick it up again, but I feel like I have been spinning, spinning, spinning on this endless wheel of waiting for it to be the “right” time.

It’s not going to be a “right” time. Let me type it out loud again for myself: It’s NEVER going to be a “right” time. I have to admit the truth of this to myself, and I have to accept the truth of this. And this means that I need to physically and mentally push myself to START. That’s the hardest part of it all — the starting. It’s all wrapped up in fear and anger and self-hatred. I guess accepting this — like, speaking it out into the universe as a truth — is an important step. Trying to keep this blog more active again is also an important step. But I was really hoping last Monday would be the day that I wrangled the Muse again and, finally, set words to paper in the form of a story.

Alas, it did not happen. And, at the end of my holiday Monday, I knew I was facing a Tuesday that acted like a Monday and a short week into which I would need to cram a long, long week’s worth of work. I ended up having the “Monday Scaries”, instead of the Sunday ones. But you know what? All of that is okay. Maybe it didn’t happen for me on my Monday off, but I feel I am getting closer. I’m inching up on it, and it is going to happen one day soon. I am not giving up. Instead, I’m going to take some deep breaths and be kind to myself as I travel my own, private road that is paved with all the Best Intentions.