Writing in Order to Function.

There are times where I simply can't function properly until I sit down and write. And a lot of the times, it's not even anything important, or the tiniest bit interesting. So, most of the time I don't publish the nonsense that passes from my brain, to the tips of my fingertips, typing away at my little black laptop. But somehow, it feels good to write. Just to get thoughts from point A to point B. Just recording a little bit of normalcy onto a blank slate.

I don't know why; I just do it, because once I do it, then I can move on to sorting the papers piling up in the office, mailing our tax forms, working on my classes, and vacuuming the rugs. Note: I cannot spell vacuum right...like ever.

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I'm almost always cold. Even when our apartment is 72°, without the heat on, or the air conditioning on. I'm still cold. So, on go the cheetah print slippers and the blue fuzzy robe.

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I went to get groceries today. I tend to put off this task, until I can't anymore. Then, the day that I have to go is of course the drizzliest, grayest, coldest, grossest, day. It really never fails. It may seem strange (and a little bit invasive), but I love looking at what other people put in their shopping carts. Something about seeing the food items they select, gives me a little inspiration. I try to guess what they're making that week. I try to guess if they have kids at home or not. I get ideas for what I should make next week. I see an item I sort of forgot existed, and then I get really excited about Zucchini again.

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Ah, now that I've jotted a few thoughts down, I feel like I can vacuum. (I spelled it right the first time, this time). See, not important. Not the tiniest bit interesting. But it's done.