Ignore the laundry

Having responsibilities has put a serious cramp in my reading habits. I used to be able to dive into a book and ignore everything around me until I finished. No longer. I became more aware of this recently when we were going to be moving to a new house and the daunting task of packing was my ever-present dread. The last time we moved I didn't have to pack, so I was seriously putting off doing it, knowing that it was going to be a big job and I was going to mostly do it myself. My mental to-do list length was in the league of "Les Miserables" (unabridged) and it was stalking me. Everywhere I would turn, there'd be that list. In the shower, in my car, hiding behind the ice cream in my freezer. It was getting to the point that I was considering getting a restraining order against it, but I figured since I created the list myself, a judge might look at me funny. Well, he wouldn't be the first.

Finally, I started on my list and was getting things done fairly quickly. After an hour or so of working, I'd reward myself with re-reading the Ender's Game series by Orson Scott Card. Sitting there in my rocker while my children played, oh so contentedly contemplating the nature of intelligence, I would start to fidget. I could hear my brain shouting at me, like someone screaming outside of a sound-proof room. Muffled, yet you can tell it's bad news. I would stop reading for a second to listen to my brain and it was screaming, "You have ten million more boxes to go! Get off your duff!" I'd shut the door on my brain and get back into the book, but I had already cracked the door and the screaming was easier to hear. Shoot! I'd throw my book down and stomp off to garage for more boxes, complaining to my brain the whole way. "I've got two weeks to go! I'll work on this tonight, after the kids are in bed. Would you leave me alone, for cryin' in the mud?!"

That's pretty tame compared to the other way my responsibilities are ruining my fun. Once again, I'd be rewarding my good behavior with a book when I'd hear the theme from Jaws. Da-dum...da-dum...da-dum......da-dum da-dum da-dum DA-DA-DUUM!!! I'd whirl around and I am not kidding, the laundry basket had moved two inches closer to me. Can't I be lazy in peace? Oh, to be a teenager again, with a mother to ignore so blissfully and no sense of impending doom, or killer shark laundry piles hunting me while I justify my lack of gumption! Sometimes it doesn't pay to be responsible. At least now I'm moved in and I can check out the new library near me. Oh wait, there's four billion boxes in my house for me to unpack. Da-dum...da-dum...da-dum...