Today I am filled with a sense of dread. I don't have a specific reason for this anxiety but, instead of just shaking it off, I find myself sitting here obsessing over things I don't want to do. So, while I obsess I'll make a list for you guys (all three of you.. hey, readership is up!) to ponder with me.
1) The peeling paint on my porch columns: Mostly this annoys me because my house is only a year old and should not have peeling paint anywhere. But, behind the annoyance, is a small fear that, despite being brand new, this house is starting to fall apart and I can't keep up with it. It's the kind of thing that gives me tiny nightmares. Like dreams of my teeth crumbling and falling out, the site of peeling paint, and the thought that there might be mildew and rot under it, haunts me. What really sucks (yes, I said sucks, because I have the maturity of a thirteen year old) is that I should have taken care of the stupid columns in August when the weather was beautiful. Or in September when the weather was relatively dry. But I didn't and now it's raining... and the mutant mold is probably growing!
2) Hanging pictures: Again.. the house is a year old! Why do I still have artwork piled in a corner of the dining room? I honestly don't know. Fear of commitment? Discontent with the color of my walls? The nagging feeling that if I allow myself to relax something might go wrong? I really need to get a grip.
3) Unpacking boxes in the garage: Notice a theme? Ugh.
4) Change of address form: No, not for me.. I'm not that bad! But for Ian, my eighteen year old, (notice I'm pretending that someone I don't know might be reading this) who is no longer living here but is still using our address for his mail. I hate, hate, hate, getting his bills, credit card offers, and postcards that are clearly notices of bounced checks. I guess I'm not really avoiding the change of address form. I'm going to fill out the change of address form to avoid the stress of knowing that I can't fix him or even give him advice. All I can do is change his address so that I don't have the tangible evidence that I need to worry about him showing up in my mailbox every other day.
I think this list could go on and on but I'm going to stop it here and go tackle the laundry.. another avoided chore but not one that gives me palpitations. Perhaps tomorrow I can make a list of things I do to avoid thinking about the things I'm avoiding?