Internal Narration

On days like today, when my only scheduled appointment is canceled and the day now seems a vast expanse of nothing to do, I look from my book, to my computer, to my disheveled mess of a room and resolve to put things in their proper place.

I am neither a slob nor a neat freak- as a high school science teacher once quipped, “nature tends towards entropy”. I am no exception, but when the mood arises, I prefer to do my cleaning in one fell swoop. And so, I gather the sweatiest of my clothes from the hamper and rinse them in the bath before letting them soak in a soapy 5 gallon bucket, doing the same with my less sweaty garb in another bucket.

To the tune of '”Ragged Wood” by the Fleet Foxes, I sweep my floor, gathering the golden strands of hair that shed from my head like a very long haired golden retriever. This is a common occurrence for the soft haired breed, and while we generally choose to be indifferent or ‘grossed out’, my counterparts in Jamaica find it wildly entertaining after the initial shock, and will grab the fistful of neglected hair from my hand and stroke it, twist it like twine or pretend to wear it like a wig.

I sweep around Larry, my resident lizard, and try to coax him towards the open window, but he takes an elegant swan dive from the wall to the floor and I leave him be. He is a useful creature in my insect populated room- my hope is that he’ll get big enough to eat the cockroaches who invade my personal space at 4am, when, as if in a dream, I find my hand grabbing at an exoskeleton and spiny legs and before I wake completely, instinctively fling the perpetrator away. I spent the half hour after that ensuring the monster was not still in my bed, and the 15 minutes after that wondering if I had not actually dreamed the whole affair entirely.

As I put new sheets on my bed, I think how much easier the process is without Lucy Goose jumping in and out of the billowing cloth and I suddenly crave that kind of distraction, when making a bed turned into a high energy game of chase or Taco Lucy (how long will it take her to untangle herself from the blankets??).

These activities took place with a running internal narration inside my head, which you have just read, while the Fleet Foxes continue to keep my mood light- so here I sit, on a freshly made bed, lavender incense burning and thinking, maybe now I’ll read my book.