what happens when you want to write... when you want to write but you have nothing to write about? can you argue that there's always something to write about. for instance, right now i'm writing about the fact that there's nothing i care to write about. but that seems like a waste.
i could write about how i'd like to petition to add more minutes to the day, and not just the day as in the lighter part of the 24 hrs., minutes to the daytime and the hours of darkness, too. more time to do and more time to recover. i want to sew my birdie curtains--finally got the ribbon for them the other day--i want to make my jewelry organizer out of the cork trivets i bought and wrap them in the cream linen fabric i picked out and tack up my accessories with the gold and silver vintage tacks i fell in love with. but there's just not enough time in the day. i want to make a new mix of my new fava flavs so that my commute can taste the spice of life: variety. but there just wasn't enough time today. i want to wash my clothes and hang them on the clothesline to swing in the breeze and stiffen in the sun. but there just wasn't enough time...or sun...today. i want to buy more nuts, dried fruit and brow rice syrup to make homemade granola bars for the week. but i had no time today.
as always, there's always tomorrow. i know i shouldn't complain, but not being able to fit enough doing into the day makes me anxious. if i were smart, i'd go to bed earlier so that tomorrow would come here sooner.