Lots of No Time

You'd think that during pandemic isolation, there'd be lots of time to do things...like blogs. That's actually only partly true. I must admit that I am happy about a lot of things I've accomplished...special fun days which included dressing up and torturing my spouse; working on some hobbies (painting, reading, playing keyboard, writing); house cleaning...hiss boo, no excuse, and cooking...ugh. I'm becoming more efficient, and more inventive even though I dislike both of the latter tasks. Waste of time if you ask me. On the other hand, what else do I have to do?

As I previously mentioned, I have started no fewer, (yes the correct word, rarely used anymore is "fewer") than a dozen blogs and finished only two. At least I think I finished two. There's probably one that I stole from someone else, so perhaps three. As for writing, I've done a bit...messages/emails to friends. Perhaps I can incorporate these someplace. I certainly have a lot to say, and I definitely have plenty of opinions.

I think what happened is that my head is so full of "stuff", that I can't focus on the direction I want to go with any one of my blogs. Then, there are also occasional interruptions. I read somewhere that interruptions are the greatest suppressors to imagination and trains of thought. My train is easily derailed. I have the attention span of a gnat, and am fortunate to know this about myself.  I knew a writer once that wrote during the night, quiet, isolated. I suppose that's why some authors disappear into cabins in the woods. Or perhaps that's a myth and just how we perceive writers.

It's not just the blogs that are unfinished. I currently have a partially completed painting on my easel. It still needs some layers and shading. Not an original idea I might add. I saw it someplace on google and it appealed to me. The colours have been changed to protect the innocent or however the expression goes.

I have also been working on a small piece of unpainted furniture, trying to come up with some colour and design. I figured, if I don't wreck it, I can go on to bigger and better pieces.  Besides, I'm so immature that when my friends phone and ask what I'm doing, I can say, "I'm just painting my stool."

Then I cackle and laugh like some four year old repeating the words poopoo, peepee, and diarrhea, over and over, as they love to do.

Here's a picture of my stool before I started painting it. Ha,ha.                         

Well...that's about it for now. I'll try to recap some of my other adventures later. I have already shared them on Facebook, so I suppose that also contributes to my laziness in blogging about them.

Take care. Wash your hands. This too shall pass.