Hyperventilating and paralyzed

My room (metaphor for my life?) has been an unmitigated mess for the past 6 months, ostensibly because I was finishing ‘next week’ and would then pack all my stuff and get ready to move on to see what else life has in store for me.

‘Next week’ is here and I cannot find the strength to tape together the first box and to catalogue the books I put into it. Cannot muster the psyche to go through clothes and general stuff to determine what to give away and what I want to lug back home. I guess I still need time to look back at the closing door (as I wade in stuff I don’t really need). Though if I were honest I’d confess that it’s just the inertia of rest (total laziness) that’s got me in its clutches… and that I want to savor it (as the mess piles higher and higher... but really, what's a couple more days after 6 months) just a little while longer.

The efficient, kick-ass, no-nonsense, take no prisoners part of me will be summoned in due course… Am actually taking next week off to put the bum to sleep and (re)awaken ms. active. Trying to decide whether ms. active should come back to this mess or whether, as her parting gesture, ms. bum should at least sort some stuff out. Aye, to be or not to be…