If you arrived here expecting a post about The Carpenters, I should probably apologise. It’s Sunday afternoon, the rain is falling outside, and I just sat down with a cup of tea. Not quite as exciting as Karen Carpenter, but at least it’s the truth.
For the first time in what seems like weeks we are doing nothing today - and it’s surprisingly therapeutic.
“Doing nothing” is of course subjective. The kids are watching television, drawing, colouring in, and playing with dolls all at the same time. My other half is watching with them while knitting something or other. I seem to be involved in the least activities - sitting here in the study like a couch potato - but then perhaps that’s payback for having been up since who knows what time this morning tidying up, washing up, feeding the kids, and fighting the never-ending battle against our house.
Tiredness seems to defeat the creative writing/blogging part of my brain. I can’t even think of the words required to construct sentences properly at the moment. You know how sometimes you can’t get words out without jumbling them up? Today I’m having the same problems with thinking.
I wonder if gradually becoming unhinged will make me more insightful, or if I’ll just turn into a huge ass clown.
How are you spending your Sunday ?