The new little washer/dryer combo cheerily spins from the next room. Its intermittent insistent noise says “industry” to me. I’ve been writing for the last hour and talking with a friend online, but the morning draws towards noon and I must motivate myself to get to going. The machine works; how can I do less?
But I feel slothful after a long stressful week. No, my dears, Mama Corinna does not complain. She survived this week, after all.
I think about so many who have not survived. Then I recall Robert Graves’ speech for Claudius: “Some say that I am half-witted; well, that might be so. Why is it then that I have survived to middle-age with only half my wits, while thousands around me have died with all of theirs intact? Evidently quality of wits is more important than quantity.” (Graves, Robert; “I, Claudius”, BBC production, based upon the book by Robert Graves, 1934). I feel what he means: I stumble through life without everything that others brag of having but still, here I am, stumbling forward. Persistence must count for something.
I realize the rain has stopped and a soft light rises from the porch. The flowers which I planted two weeks ago shimmer, the water on their leaves catching the sun’s rays as they break through the remaining clouds. Although I have been awake since six, I have not yet dressed — I’m still padding around the house barefoot in my too-large, soft, leopard-print pajamas. I find myself laughing at my laziness but the laughter feels good and echoes out into the yard.
I go back inside the house and start thinking about getting something done. What shall I choose? I’ve lots to occupy my time, though mostly chores — at least until Jenny Rosen calls and we go on our pilgrimage to the great consumer mecca, Ikea. In the meantime, I might carry laundry down. It’s hard work, being alive and adult; but I’m not complaining.