Late junctions

[j4]

By the time I get time to write anything I've forgotten all the things I want to write, or else they've become mere retellings of dreams, in which all last night's luminousness has faded into flatness.

I get the kids to sleep, and I do all the chores that absolutely need doing -- the putting/throwing away of food-related things that will go off otherwise, the loading of dishwasher & washing-machine, the packing of school bags for the next day, and the bare minimum of tidying to stop me going actually insane -- and by then the sentence has run on so long I've forgotten where it started and what I was doing, and eventually I go to sleep.

The next day I remember that I was going to do something.

There were things I was going to do. Things I was going to write. I had things to say. I don't have things to say any more. All roads lead to the road not taken.

H will be 3 next Friday and it just terrifies me that all this nothingness is her actual childhood, the thing she'll remember, this thing, this absence of a thing, that's barely even memorable while it's happening. My life is scrolling past behind soundproof glass and I have no idea what the kids are hearing.

What was I going to do tonight? Eventually and intermittently sleep, I suppose?

Comments

Seeing this on Latest Things

[nodrog]

… And I understand.

If nothing else, I can offer you that:  Yes.  I’ve felt this too.  So have others, including one of my dearest friends.  You’re not alone with this.  (Oh, what I could have written!)

If this helps any.

- G.

[aldabra]

Yes.

She'll remember vividness. It's all new and she has time to process it.

[jinty]

yes, this.