Nothing funny about feldspar

I’ve had an unproductive, boring day. I woke up tired, took a nap and woke up tired, been tired all day. Everyone in the house has been tired all day. Maybe it’s the heat? I have gotten nothing done, and been disinclined to do anything about it.

I was happy when it became a decent time to go to bed, because I need to get some reasonable sleep. As we were getting settled into bed, Plagioclase started talking about all the stuff “we have to get done,” (as though We! Need! To! Do! It! Tomorrow! As! Soon! As! It’s! Light!) some of which I’ve been putting off for emotional reasons.

Instantly, I couldn’t sleep. I started tossing & turning, thinking about those things that sneak up on me when I get in this state. Scenes of visiting Mom in the hospital. Crappy things I said to my dad. Confrontations real and imagined with my sister. Wondering if I have every scrap of paper I’m supposed to for the court to be satisfied I’ve done my job. Starting the whole process over again with Plagioclase’s mother. Being unable to walk for fun. The aging of Albite. Not having a steady paycheck. The garage roof caving in. Things I said I’d do that I haven’t (a list longer than Jack’s beanstalk is high). Things I want to do that I never will (Jack’s beanstalk squared).

So I came downstairs and blogged. It’s nearly midnight. What else am I gonna do?

(sometime later) As I read over this post, the litany seems to be dissolving into meaninglessness, like repeating the same word over and over. Maybe it’s self-hypnosis, or maybe it’s the small glass of rosé I just drank, or maybe it’s just a normal time to be sleepy, but I think I’m going to try again. Wish me luck!