I cannot quiet my mind today (probably because I haven’t written in a while so I’m out of practice). I’m thinking of lawn mowers and Van Gogh’s sunflowers and brats and beer and board games and hot parking lots and swimming pools. I’m thinking about envelopes and soap and dirty dishes and about whether or not my iron is still on (it’s still plugged in).
Fluorescent bulbs and my sewing machine and the kitchen mixer and shoe polish and dust bunnies. Job applications and interviews and ballpoint pens and computer keyboards.
How is it that so many items, so many moments, fill my life and yet I still have nothing to say?