Peace and quiet (noun): 1. The absence of yelling voices, running feet, hand-held game gadgets. 2. A rare occurence in a household of three boys, but generally occurs Mondays through Fridays between the hours of 8:30 am until 3:30 pm.
Sounds heavenly, and it is. I thouroughly enjoy the option of having my computer blasting mp3s at a deafening volume or having nothing but the sound of the sprinklers in the lawn when the music is off and the windows are open. I clean and I clean and I clean and I launder and launder and launder and yet I find myself unfulfilled. Yearning for more. Build up some drama with me, I want to say screw the laundry another day and find something fun to do!
Now, I must confess I do have one thing that I've recently discovered I absolutely enjoy is my Goodwill sprees. Day-long jaunts hitting all the "good" Goodwills: Carmel, Fishers, Noblesville, Brownsburg. Oh yeah. I do it. And I admit it, I still sneak in the doors, but lemme tell ya, when I'm in, it's exhilirating! Bargainers and treasure hunters unite. Seriously, though, I have found some great stuff. Aaron's caught the fever, too.
So, how can I make the leap from shopping at Goodwill to finding a new hobby? Well, I don't know. I'm sure I'll figure something out. I have a few ideas budding in my head, but that's where they're staying for now until I know for sure.
Now, here's the best part: Five glorious days off. Oh how I've missed that! I wish I'd embraced unemployment a little better. I actually kind of miss it! Five days for painting a bathroom, digging a planter, having a cookout, not having to deal with a bazillion kids early in the morning.
Well there you have it. A little bit of random from someone who's a shift away from calm!!
I can't eat those. Whatchamacallits, that is. They are the one thing on earth that I've discovered for me is a migraine trigger. Oh yeah, I found that out the hard way.
But that's not what's going on in my mind. It's just, well, I never feel like I'm locked in when I'm locked in my house. I go measures when it comes to locking up at night. But it just feels so open. So obvious. So in-your-face.
Driving down the street that connects to mine, my home's backside is in the view to all who venture down that road. You can't help it; it just is. So here I am, front and center--well, back and center, I guess--viewable to all, a beacon in the night. We keep the lights low, but it's still illuminating! And the white Roman blinds, well, they just don't provide enough privacy and shelter from the outside world, but if I ask to replace them, am I really asking for a pretty white robe delivered by men in coats?
What is wrong with me? I'm convinced the world is watching me! I hear air traffic and cars and see reflections in the distance and my heart races. Not having houses around me puts my mind at a swift disadvantage; there's no one to absorb some of that center-spotlight phenomenon.
Another thing, I think, is that I no longer have my shelter that I held so dear in my trees. Leaving the old house found me leaving my shield of trees behind. The stark emptiness of my new yard compared with the dense woods of my entire former neighborhood--it's abrupt.
Can a person really suffer from the lack of greenery? And if so, to what extent?
I honestly think you can suffer. I know the sense of calm I feel when ever I enter the state parks I love so much. I know how much I can crave it. And since I've added plants to my indoor furnishings, I have found I'm much calmer at home. As long as I'm not reminded of the lack of trees on the other side of the blinds. Winter was hell. I can't remember a winter I disliked. Not having snowy trees as the backdrop of every early morning sunrise really hurt me.
I think that I feel exposed and vulnerable. I think that is the root cause of my recent paranoia. But knowing is half the battle. With a little diligence I will overcome my recent bout of OCD. I know it, I know it, I know it!
And yes, I am singing that song by Rockwell.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aD21JDMp86c
