Thought Prism

The day started with promise - the boy slept late, and so I slept late, a boon to a mother who was awake through the wee hours. We snuggled for brief while, his sweet head resting on my shoulder, his eyes inches from mine.

Once up, I made the bed - it's nice, having a made bed, and I didn't know I'd missed it until I started the habit again. I started some laundry, emptied the dishwasher and loaded it again, did a little cooking, went on with my day.

A good start.

The last few hours, though...I don't know.

I feel...distracted. Tugged this way and that. Fractured. I can't focus.

I tried writing a bit. No dice - the pieces of fiction I've been juggling for a long while now are slippery, words falling from my grasp and shattering on the keyboard. The non-fiction is just as elusive, nothing coming out right, all tangled up and out of order.

I have been pacing up and down the hall, up and down the stairs, into my room and out again. Folding and stowing laundry was automatic, a minor distraction from my distraction. I called a friend - no answer, no distraction there. Called another...ditto. Wrote some blog posts. Deleted them. Wrote some poetry. Deleted it.

As an aside - you know I think it's truly awful when I delete it, as I tend to save even the failures as object lessons.

I keep looking at blogs I've already read, hoping for something new to look at, something new to hold my attention, help pass the time. It's the weekend...slim pickin's in Blogopolis.

I am restless, but don't want to go anywhere. I start household chores and leave them half done as I gaze out the window at...nothing.

I am impatient. I snapped at the boy for acting like a boy. I apologized...then snapped again a few minutes later.

I dozed a little in the chair, only to start awake after a few moments. I thought I felt something, soft as a moth's wing, brush my temple, my forehead, my lips. Nothing was there. Just my imagination.

I stared at some dust motes dancing through a beam of sunlight, and rather than enchanted I felt...almost frantic.

I am worried. That's it. Worried. I don't know why, or about what...but it broke open and washed over me a few hours ago and now I can't shake it.

My minutes are hours, fractured by a prism into tiny segments...I am waiting for my scattered thoughts to coalesce...with no idea where it came from, all I can do is ride it out and hope that it's not connected to someone I love, that some unnamed catastrophe had struck family or friends and I know before being told.

I would very much like for it to pass...