I always hated that phrase, when the dust settles. Really it’s because my OCD would kick in and I’d have to clean up all the dust once it settled and that just sounds so unappealing at the present moment. I mean, isn’t it more exciting to watch the dust fly all around your head and worry about it getting into everything you own and making a mess? I’d much rather do all the worrying than the cleaning up, especially when the dust is particularly thick and dark and leaves a layer so thick it could suffocate you once it settles.
This is kind of how I feel right now with my child being home and returning to school this week. I feel as though, well damn, now I have to get my shit together, I have no excuses. Maybe I could blame the excess amounts of bread, pasta, cookies, and wine I ate and drank on what we were all going through but now it’s time to clean up and I’m not sure I want to or can. The fact that I had to put pants on to go to work today was both a startling revelation and a tragedy at the same time. I of course immediately took an estroven weight loss pill this morning after squeezing myself into my jeans as if that might change the fact that eating all my feelings for the last month went directly to my belly and ass.
I could excuse the way my house looked everyday when we were in thick of the storm and the dust whirled like a tornado around us but now I’m left with real dust bunnies and dog hair and god knows what else all over and I have no good reason not to clean it all up except that I’m just so very tired and the cleanup sounds so daunting. I’m starting to plot and scheme that maybe the dirt and dust could be considered new decor, highly fashionable, a trendsetter. Stranger things have happened.
When the storm was whirling and peaking and pounding on us I could use that as an excuse to crawl into my shell and only poke my head out once every three days. I could stay in my pajamas and be as anti social as I wanted, ignoring phone calls, not speaking to people for days, and not engaging without having to explain myself. Now I fear people would maybe start to worry slightly and call me out on my bizarre hobbit like ways if this were to continue. I might even start letting the hair on my feet grow and that would just be gross.
So I guess it’s time to dust off the dirt and the grime, clean up the crap as well as my act, and start moving forward again. Goodbye pasta and bread and cookies everyday. Goodbye turtle shell and hobbit cave. Goodbye dust bunnies. Although sitting at home watching the dust bunnies roll on the floor was a really fun past time.
Not saying goodbye to the wine. Yet.