THE SCHLUMPADINKS TO END ALL SCHLUMPADINKS

Hi Dearies.

Do you ever have a day when the minutes just kind of blur themselves all into one another, and before you know it, it's nighttime and you're heading to bed?

That seems to be my world lately. I am just an enormous lump of...inertia.

I feel like I'm trying to move through jello underwater. Nothing is easy, crisp, full of vim, interesting, or exciting. Breathing in and out is about as much activity as I want to contemplate, and the idea of holding my head upright or carrying on a conversation feels like a challenge as daunting as a marathon.

The best part of this weird state is that my tiny little brain feels perfectly happy and peaceful and full of gratitude. I don't feel depressed or sad or angry or frustrated or worrisome or anything else, for that matter....I'm just...

Still.

I went to the pool yesterday, but instead of sploshing about like my hair was on fire, I felt perfectly happy to just float and look at the beautiful blue sky and the big fat white puffy clouds. There were a few birds chirping, and in the far distance I could hear neighborhood kids playing, and overall it was very very peaceful.

So if everything in my head is cheerful and watching butterflies, how come the rest of me wants to do nothing more strenuous than hold a book?

I'm re-reading Don Quixote, and there is a large part of me that's starting to think it might be just fine to be a batshit crazy spinster who has this marvelously interesting life behind her eyeballs, wears a pot on her head and thinks it's a helmet, and who travels the world in search of imaginary adventures.

Hmmmm. Maybe I'm onto something.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue my schlumpadink here in Hoosierville with impunity and lots of ice water. Please don't fret if it's more stock memes and art than long blathering for now. I'm schlumpadinking...it's a process.