Productive Unrest

This was written last Thursday night. I’ll be dated it for then, but since you’ll be reading now, this note feels appropriate)

It’s an understatement to say that I’m a bit restless today. The events taking place this week at the capital were upsetting for most of us. Well most of us with a brain anyway. Tonight I sat on my couch and flipped through my phone and vaguely watched the television and texted with my friends. I sat and finished one of my books in front of the fire, and about 45 minutes ago I went upstairs to my craft room which doubles as a guest room to go get a small children’s chair that I bought years ago and repainted for the fun of it.

What started as a retrieving errand within my house turned into a major re-organizing of the corner of that room. I had two holders from IKEA that were meant for wrapping paper in addition to a large cylindrical cardboard container which also held various rolls of paper, vinyl, and wrapping paper. As well as a few umbrellas (?).

I hauled it all out of the corner and re-organized it., Getting everything into the large cardboard spherical container.

I remove the chair from above the heater, but of course that wasn’t all that had been piled up there. So I moved the cardboard pinball kit that Little and I had made before the pandemic started, and scratched my head as to how I would store it so that it would stay in one piece and not break.

I found a random slab of wood that I later brought to the basement, as and brought from atop the bookshelf a large batik sign of my name which was made when I was a kid, and had been collecting dust here for years.

I brought the mini chair downstairs with intentions of using it as a footstool when I read by the fire. But of course, the yellow of the chair does not match the yellow of my wall and I know myself well enough to know that this will eventually bother me!

I went to the basement to put that slab of wood with my other wood scraps, and meandered over to the far end of my basement to look at my paint collection and see if I had any interior wall paint that would match the room where that small chair would sit.

Then I discovered that quite a few containers holding what’s left of my house paint were not in fact airtight. So then I spent the next chunk of time figuring out which paint had dried out, and writing down their complicated names along with their color codes in case I needed to order more in the future.

Opening and closing the jars I found some were starting to harden, and some were a gooey mess. Of course I looked down and realized I’m wearing my favorite sweatpants, and my favorite Ohio University sweatshirt, and a brand new pair of slippers, which have helped me get through this pandemic along with the company of my dog, and I realize that this is something that could end up very disastrous. All it takes is one pop of paint.

So I head upstairs rid myself of the sweatshirt and throw on an apron. Then I head back downstairs and before I know it I’m organizing my entire paint section of my basement.

When I finished that and headed back upstairs, I went to adjust the old hanging hardware on the back of the batik name sign and I discovered that one of the nails had broken. As I headed to the basement to find another nail, I remembered that a fellow photographer who I am a member of a board with on the UPAA just acquired a new Wheaton Terrier puppy. Before I knew it I was detouring to a box in my basement which contained a collection of dog bandanas I’ve made and which are being sold in my Etsy shop.

I took my time trying to pick one out, and once I came all the way upstairs I realized I’d forgotten the whole reason I gone to the basement in the first place. Nails. I retraced my steps, retrieved the nails, and finished installing the new hanging hardware for the name sign.

I welcome the distraction and the busywork even if I can’t actually remember how I got here.

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