the general lack of focus in my writing is reflected, alas, in my world, where the mess and the chaos generated by the renovations has reached a critical mass. i am even contemplating calling in my mother.
it has occured to me that an element of deliberation is called for. the inertia caused by the mess itself, as well as my own proclivity to procrastinate, combined with summer's langourous lures, portends a disaster by fall. the task before me appears so big that even the idea of making a list stops me cold in my tracks.
today i will begin by scrubbing out the bath, and see where that leads me.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.