Frantic frenzy, running out of time
Posted on | June 22, 2010 | Comments Off
So she knew she had less than a week to get the house in order, yet she still found herself moving at a snail’s pace. She knew some of this problem was mental, and some of it physical. She of course would milk the physical part for all it was worth. Her physician made some adjustments to her medications to hopefully help “rev things up” a bit for her, but it could be a while before that took effect and she needed to get moving now. Oh well, she’d have to force herself to get going. One little bit at a time if that was all she could do. She would much rather spend her time curled up in bed, daydreaming, reading or something. (She’d already watched four seasons of BONES.) But, alas, this must get done, and now she was really starting to get nervous. The “I’ve got time” was replaced with more of a frantic frenzy of thoughts in her head.
She thought how it would be much easier to call upon an imaginary dog or a talking worm or to be locked in a psych ward than to have to do these chores. She thought about how avoiding everything that mattered in life was easier than actually doing it. She would love to run right now. She imagined crochet lessons with the art teacher, a trip to Cardiff, a trip to the Moon. She didn’t care. Just anywhere but here at this point.
Perhaps she was scared of more than just completing the task, but of the company itself. She’d have to be human and entertaining while they were here. No telepathic dogs could be present. That wouldn’t go over well. Certainly no talking worms. No transports to different worlds or Art teachers coming out of cabinets. She’d have to live in a completely non-fiction world. Or maybe not.
Perhaps she could take her guests on adventures as well. Maybe they too could see what she sees, could even add to the story she called life. Maybe there was hope. Maybe she should get the house clean for their arrival.
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