My mind never stops spinning. It’s exhausting….not only for me, but for everyone around me. I do everything I can to learn how to relax and live in the moment. I’ve tried yoga, meditation, and even an occasional shrink. Nothing works long term.
When I’m watching TV I think I should probably be reading. When I’m organizing my closet I think I should be at the gym. When I’m at the gym I think I’d rather be any place else. When I’m creating something yummy in the kitchen ………………… wait…..that hasn’t happened since the Nixon Administration. When I’m shopping for shoes I think……..Yes! This is exactly where I should be.
I’ve had this problem all my life. When I was in school I was not a great student – couldn’t focus, couldn’t memorize. Only when my son was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) was I able to give my own restlessness a name.
My mind and my actions are rarely in sync. Yesterday I found my blood pressure pill lying on the kitchen counter. I thought I’d taken it already. I stood staring at it, trying to retrace my steps. No luck, so I took what may have been a second pill. Smart? I doubt it. I just figured more is better than none.
I started thinking about the trivia that continually runs through my hyperactive mind. I thought about sharing those thoughts with my husband. But then, I completely forgot those thoughts so it was a moot point.
This morning I allowed Mighty Marc to leave his bed and come visit me in mine. I don’t make a habit of doing that because, not being a morning person, I don’t enjoy morning talks, nor do I make much sense if I talk before my brain comes to life somewhere around 10:00 AM. But, he’d had one of his long winded, makes-absolutely-no-sense-dreams that he felt compelled to share, God help me. I bit my lower lip, pretended to listen and even threw in a few well placed comments like, “No kidding!” and “Ah ha!” while I went about pondering my own unremarkable, but burning thoughts.
I didn’t think his story would ever end so I felt the need to cut him off just as he was describing how he had built a life size computer, with wings, that flew him to Google Land where he hung out with Angelina Jolie and Golda Meir, and they dined on Girl Scout cookies….Thin Mints. For this I let him into my bed?
“Marc,” I interrupted. “Why does hair get oily after only one day?”
Needless to say, he found my question intriguing. I could hear his brain come to a screeching halt. Even he recognized it was more interesting than his nonsensical dream.
After twenty seconds of serious head scratching he answered. “Better oily than late.” Groan!
I faked a giggle, and went on to my next issue.
“Remember when we were driving last night and we almost killed that man who was walking his dog on the side of the road?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“I was thinking how thoughtless that guy was. He cared enough about his own safety to wear a white jacket. But, his dog was black, and barely visible. Had I been the one driving we’d be scraping doggie fur off our bumper this morning.”
“Would you rather he painted his dog white?”
“Now, that’s silly. I was thinking he should have Velcroed colored reflectors all over the dog’s body.”
I could see Marc was thoroughly impressed with the depth of my thinking. In fact, he was speechless, so I took the opportunity to ask one more probing question.
“What’s the difference between a breeze and a draft?”
He threw off the quilt, stepped out of bed and left the room.
Maybe next time he’ll think twice before coming into my bed in the morning.
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