Levels of (dis)Comfort

I think I have forgotten how to journal, because the words aren't flowing at all.  wait!  the keyboard is crooked - let's fix that.  Not wearing my glasses...ok, where did I put them?  Hmmm.  Only half a cup of coffee, and my sleep pants are uncomfortable, and the desk is too junky and this chair doesn't sit just right...

Odd how things have to be just right before we can get into a zone, isn't it, and what spurs us into action (why on earth is there a flashlight, my cell phone, a bottle of antacid, 2 packs of sweetner, a flip-flop and a sponge, a deck of cards, 40 books and an eyeliner pencil on top of my desk..?).

For some reason, I thought by time I reached this age, I would have lots of spare time.  The house would be sparkling clean, my desk would be neat and I would be clicking away on the keyboard, finishing that Great American Novel, and life would be rosy and comfortable, and all the pieces would finally fall into place. 

This has not been the case.  If anything, life is busier than when my kids were small, in school, in scouts, etc.  For the last few weeks, the house has been a wreck.  No, really. How DID that flip-flop end up on my desk with everything else?!

And to make things worse, I walked by a mirror the other day.  And I looked.  And was horrified!  Because of meals on the run, I have gained - no, BALLOONED! - into something that does not look like me (I screamed.  George came running.  I showed him what was in the mirror and he growled).

And so - I have decided to get things under control, back to some level of comfort.  Better time management.  Lose this awful weight...throw that flip-flop in the garbage, and take my life back.

Wish me luck!