Entropy is pulling ahead
May. 9th, 2006 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrI usually consider myself, in my own home, to be fighting a losing battle with entropy. Still, it was striking to see how, when I get sick and am not up to my usual, how much I really do most of the time. I realize that lately I have been losing at a faster rate than normal.
This past week, I have felt like a marionette with all of my strings cut. I have felt listless, unenergetic and ineffectual, too busy trying to breathe to get much done. As a result, the house has fallen apart to an astounding degree. This was not helped by the fact that Rob was sick during the same week. I have not been exercising because of the allergies, and now feel overtaken by torpor.
This is immensely depressing. I look at the mess, and I know I should gird my loins to engage in battle again, but when I look at the mess in the bedrooms and the mail table and the dining room table and the kitchen, and see how much has piled up, and look at the mess in the yard--weeds everywhere, grass too long--I want to burst into tears. And I feel that there is no one to pick up the slack for me. Cleaning is alien to Rob's nature, and the girls have grasshopper minds that do not even notice the mess. Nor does it occur to them for a moment to DO anything about it. But I look around and . . . urgh.
*Feeling the urge to cry again.*
No, I am not asking for advice. I am just venting.
This past week, I have felt like a marionette with all of my strings cut. I have felt listless, unenergetic and ineffectual, too busy trying to breathe to get much done. As a result, the house has fallen apart to an astounding degree. This was not helped by the fact that Rob was sick during the same week. I have not been exercising because of the allergies, and now feel overtaken by torpor.
This is immensely depressing. I look at the mess, and I know I should gird my loins to engage in battle again, but when I look at the mess in the bedrooms and the mail table and the dining room table and the kitchen, and see how much has piled up, and look at the mess in the yard--weeds everywhere, grass too long--I want to burst into tears. And I feel that there is no one to pick up the slack for me. Cleaning is alien to Rob's nature, and the girls have grasshopper minds that do not even notice the mess. Nor does it occur to them for a moment to DO anything about it. But I look around and . . . urgh.
*Feeling the urge to cry again.*
No, I am not asking for advice. I am just venting.
