Today I am cleaning house. I'm trying to break the suction that keeps me stuck somewhere between "what's the use?" and "I don't care." I get up and move. I do the little things that stare at me:
fold a pile of laundry that has been waiting for days
move the holder for the outside temperature gauge because we continue to bump it where it is and the sensor falls on cement
change a litter box
start by washing the floor in the laundry room where Misi pees outside the box--oh yes, we are a creative household here
feed the squirrels
take the magazines to the recycle bin
sit a spell
get up and start the next room
I am taking it a room at a time. I will get as far as I get today. Maybe just downstairs--or part of downstairs. Maybe I'll even start upstairs. Maybe not. One. Room. At. A. Time.
That is good enough. The flow may be interrupted, yet it is better than no flow at all.
Maybe I will even go outside and sit in the sun. I hear it calling me....