Considering the way this week has gone, I should probably choose sleeping instead of writing during nap time today. When I skip out on Five-Minute Friday, though, I feel sad...so I'm setting the timer for five minutes to see what comes out and then I'm going to take a nap.
Today's prompt: Crowd.
There's the perpetual to-do list, constantly rewriting, regrouping and reprioritizing itself. It has a written form, but the one in my head refuses to quit updating no matter how many things I write on paper. There's a grocery list, too, and a kind of running tally of things I should be keeping an eye out for - things we need around the house, things we'll need for school in the fall, boots and jackets in various sizes that are missing from our clothing lineup.
There are the running requests from other people. Sam needs a refill on juice and Nora needs a tissue. Lucy has asked to read Curious George as soon as breakfast is over, and George needs me to e-mail him that person's address. My mom wants a call back for an opinion on a gift, and I need to find the wrapping paper box (which I haven't seen since Christmas but I'm pretty sure is in the laundry room).
The things that take up the most room, though, are the words and phrases that roll around...things I think I should write about, sentences I could rewrite, clever ways I could have worded things that have already been written. Sometimes there are voices from the past, too. You could go pretty much anywhere you wanted for oboe performance, you know. Are you sure you're making the best decision? Why can't you be more lighthearted and lively? God needed another angel...he needed your dad more than you did. I can't believe you're having another baby...don't you know what causes that? Your dad would be so proud of you. This dessert is the best thing you have ever made. I love you as much as thirteen gazillion Jupiters in a row.
Not all of it is good. Not all of it is bad. It's just noisy. When I add to it my own I shoulds/I wishes/I coulds, the racket is nearly unbearable.
How can I quiet all of this down to hear the only still, small voice that matters?
For more Five-Minute Friday, visit Lisa-Jo Baker's blog.