I’ve been pestering myself all day long and I’m sick of hearing it. I kept telling myself that I have to write something, and I wasn’t listening. It’s not that I was rejecting the idea of writing something, it’s just that I wasn’t “ready.” Thinking about writing isn’t writing. I had to get ready.
After I made pizza for the humans and did the evening chores for the thirteen animals, I evidently began the serious stalling. I went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Classic. What am I, four years old?
I couldn’t decide which chair I wanted to sit in because they’re suddenly all very uncomfortable, so I fetched a special treat for the guinea pig. She was standing on a thin roll of toilet paper I put in her cage a few days ago. I thought she might have fun with it. She uses it as a vantage point though. QueeQuee has her own vista and I don’t have the point on a pencil. Where’s my toilet paper roll?
I sat down and my bra was bothering me. That’s nothing new, I loathe the device and the person who invented it. I’m not doing this with a bra on. Why do I have to wear one anyway? So people can see how uniform my boobs are? I’m glad I don’t get to witness the amazing uniformity – I’m busy living my life, not staring at my reflection and checking out my own boobs; I know they’re there and frankly, I don’t care if they’re uniform or one’s as big as a watermelon and one’s as small as an Italian plum. It’s coming off and it’s going to the number one spot on my list of “Top Ten Things To Do Before Writing” requirements. I unhooked it in the back with my right hand, slipped my right hand all the way up the left sleeve and pulled the strap down to the end of my sleeve and around my left hand and escaped the confinement on that side. To complete my act, I reached into the right sleeve – and woosh – it’s gone! For my next trick, I’ll try the old tablecloth routine.
I realized that I’d forgotten my glasses. I couldn’t pass up another opportunity to increase my stalling factor, which was increasing exponentially! While looking for the glasses, I realize that my jeans seemed a bit snug from enjoying too much pizza, I have to pee from drinking so much water, and I’m seriously thinking that the only way to write is to always answer nature’s call, even if she’s not calling yet, get completely naked and then sit down. However, I resist brilliant idea, and since thinking isn’t writing, I realized I was stalling again…
I think I’m ready now, except this moment became the perfect time for my neurotic, old Persian cat to sit on top of the pet carrier by the front door and wail, until my husband or I get tired of it and let her outside. She has us well trained. I decided to stall some more… This won’t be the last opportunity for me to stall, either. She’ll be back at the door shortly, wailing to come back in, then out and in again before we’ve had enough wailings and lettings, and throw her out before bed.
After I let her out, I visited the kitchen to see if anything new appeared since I was last in there. It’s a common wandering ground and a great place to stall. I opened the refrigerator door and stared in, hoping something new or delicious would appear. I stood so long, a parade of penguins came out. Being cool in the kitchen with a waddle of penguins was imagination enough for one day.
I think I’m ready now. I’ll catch you on the flip side.