No Kids...What Now?
So the kids are off to camp today, and my husband and I will soon find ourselves with an empty nest for the first time, EVER, for one week. What shall we do with ourselves?
I plan to write, write, write. By the way I had a dream last night in which I was asking a secretary at the Post-Gazette how I should go about submitting a travel article and she responded by telling me I should study writing, and they didn't just accept articles from unknown people, and that I should read other articles....everything except how to submit the thing. It was one of those frustrating dreams where you just can't accomplish the simplest task.
I have written a draft of the article I plan to submit. Maybe the dream was my unconscious self telling me to finish the thing already. My conscious self has been telling me the same thing.
I plan to clean and organize my home office. There are papers, everywhere. A writing pile. A bill pile. An insurance pile. A kids' school pile. Overlapping piles. Dusty piles. Stepped-on piles. That room might as well have a giant sign with yellow police tape that screams HAZARDOUS WASTE SITE--DO NOT ENTER. Once I clean it out (I may need a backhoe at this point) I'm going to paint it, but I vow not to undertake any cleaning/painting project until I've done my writing for the day. Writing meaning the lonely book I've been working on. It calls to me and I pretend I don't hear.
I plan to do no grocery shopping and minimal laundry.
I plan on packing for our week at Chautauqua...writers week! I'm reading We Were the Mulvaneys (Joyce Carol Oates) in anticipation of the author's talk next week. I plan on finishing that before we go. I had never read Oates before and like it more than I anticipated.
But we'll be lonely without our boys. The outdoor ping-pong table will sit neglected. The playstation turned off. No music blaring from Phil's computer. Noah's car will be missing its teenage driver. No Josh to say "Hey Mom, I was just wondering," or "Hey Mom, I was just curious," or "Hey Mom, what's for breakfast," or just "Hey Mom!"
I plan to write, write, write. By the way I had a dream last night in which I was asking a secretary at the Post-Gazette how I should go about submitting a travel article and she responded by telling me I should study writing, and they didn't just accept articles from unknown people, and that I should read other articles....everything except how to submit the thing. It was one of those frustrating dreams where you just can't accomplish the simplest task.
I have written a draft of the article I plan to submit. Maybe the dream was my unconscious self telling me to finish the thing already. My conscious self has been telling me the same thing.
I plan to clean and organize my home office. There are papers, everywhere. A writing pile. A bill pile. An insurance pile. A kids' school pile. Overlapping piles. Dusty piles. Stepped-on piles. That room might as well have a giant sign with yellow police tape that screams HAZARDOUS WASTE SITE--DO NOT ENTER. Once I clean it out (I may need a backhoe at this point) I'm going to paint it, but I vow not to undertake any cleaning/painting project until I've done my writing for the day. Writing meaning the lonely book I've been working on. It calls to me and I pretend I don't hear.
I plan to do no grocery shopping and minimal laundry.
I plan on packing for our week at Chautauqua...writers week! I'm reading We Were the Mulvaneys (Joyce Carol Oates) in anticipation of the author's talk next week. I plan on finishing that before we go. I had never read Oates before and like it more than I anticipated.
But we'll be lonely without our boys. The outdoor ping-pong table will sit neglected. The playstation turned off. No music blaring from Phil's computer. Noah's car will be missing its teenage driver. No Josh to say "Hey Mom, I was just wondering," or "Hey Mom, I was just curious," or "Hey Mom, what's for breakfast," or just "Hey Mom!"
posted by calabresewoman | 4:47 AM
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