Disjointed Ramblings

As much as "D" should be for dogs, or dishes left undone, or disastrously large laundry pile, I'm pretty sure it's for disjointed thoughts. I'm having one of those heat wave moments where things just aren't connecting. Even my trusty list system is failing me, since every time I think of one thing to cross off, the three things I've forgotten magically reappear, somewhere in the middle. Even carrying something upstairs has become an ordeal where I know that I brought that granola bar upstairs, but cannot for the life of me remember where I set it down between the kitchen and my final destination. (answer? Kate's dresser. Don't ask why, because I honestly can't remember why I was even in there.)

Things here are finally settling down - the last week of Art Camp and the last week of summer are quickly here, long before I was ready for them. We're in the midst of working through the school supply lists, deciphering unwritten dress codes, and negotiating on school shoes. You would think that my brain would slow down, enjoy the lists, and get my annual high from the smell of new school supplies.

But alas, I'm racing around leaving half-done projects in my wake - the school supplies haven't been brought in from the car, Quilt 2 is staring at me waiting to be quilted, work projects are all over the map, and the dishes are still in the sink. And all the while, I have ideas coming at me from left and right - gifts to be made, knitting projects to try, organization ideas for the rooms with no closets.

I'm like one of those manic toy tops with the scary clown that pops out of the top, and I've even cut down my daily caffeine intake. (Good glory, can you imagine what might happen if I was fully caffeinated? I'd be like a full-fledged tornado, and the house would be minus some windows or something.)

I'm blaming the heat - no wonder southern women always got the vapors on days like this. Their pretty little brains must have just short-circuited. So I'm going to go with the tradition, and just turn it all off. It's pizza night, it's 105 degrees, and I'm milking it for all its worth. Break out the fruity drinks, girls, they're on me today.

Let's just hope my brain catches on to the idea, shall we? I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to get it together, or heaven forbid, my children will go back to school in clothes that don't match, and I'm pretty sure we can't have that.