The last couple of months have been busy. The kind of busy that threw me off my routine and had me scrambling to keep up with pretty much everything. My house looks way more lived in than I care to live in, the to-do list has more forward arrows than checkmarks, and my WIP (Work in Progress) hasn't progressed.
Catch-up time is usually weekends except that lately, we seem to either be away for one climbing competition or another. And if we're not out of town for a competition, we're at the gym for team practice.
Yesterday I woke up in frantic must-get-organized mode. I tossed all the junk out of my office (it's become the dumping ground for everything we didn't know what to do with) and started organizing, scrap paper by scrap paper by magazine by notebook. Holy crap!
My de-cluttering attempt created more clutter. And the more clutter I made, the less focused I became. A pile of books from the office needed to be moved to the bookshelves in the bedroom, where I stopped to fold a pile of clothes, then had to put a shirt back into the laundry, and realized I'd sprayed the shower but didn't wipe it down. Yeah ... you see how well that went. By the end of the day, I was more frustrated than when I started.
This morning I was determined to make good of yesterday's efforts. If I tipped my head 15 degrees and closed one eye, I could see the end of the mess. And the to-do list getting ready for another weekend climbing trip didn't seem quite as daunting (granted, I was looking at it after 4 cups of coffee).
Except that my brain couldn't settle into any of the things I had to do. Writing a blog post resulted in deleting more words than I was getting onto the page. I opened my WIP, reread the last few lines hoping they'd inspire new words. Nadda. I went over notes for an afternoon conference call and ended up with an extra 5 tabs open in Safari.
When I finally couldn't take the jumble in my brain, I pulled out a new yarn and started on a slouch beanie my son asked me to make. My fingers are busy and my brain is slowly switching from full throttle to a comfortable idle.
In The Memory of Hoofbeats, the main character, Emma, discovers crocheting and the mental quieting that comes with the repetitive motion. She gets that from my side of the family. ;-)
Crocheting is my time-out, it's the opportunity to let my thoughts go where they need. My family teases that you can tell my stress level by the number of crochet projects I have going on. They can laugh all they want. While working on the band of the hat, I came up with a better topic for that blog post I was having trouble with. Maybe by the time I finish the beanie, I'l have the next few scenes of the WIP mapped out.
Now back to my time out.