Birds sound like sirens outside my window. Or are those sirens that sound like sirens outside my window?
Allow me to set the scene. Here I sit, bumble butt splatted on a plush rug on the floor in a dim apartment that desperately needs to be cleaned. Here I sit telling my story to no one instead of scrubbing the toilet.
My phone is by my side. I will soon receive a phone call from an organic farm in Vermont. I will probably not be the best advocate for myself today.
I always get bummed out when I am home alone with nothing to do but pursue my wildest creative passions. The time fritters away, and all the dreams I had when I woke up this morning, all the reasons today was going to be GREAT I was going to feel GREAT I was going to do GREAT things, all of them go unrealized.
And then I pick my husband up from work and we eat and do chores and watch youtube videos and we start again. Where did all my time go? I remember when I could churn out one creative project every couple of days, or at least every week.