I've been letting things pile up lately, but I just don't have the energy to get it done. I'm becoming aware of just how many clothes we all have, because it's been a while since I did laundry and we still seem to be making do. The knee-wall in our kitchen and the top of our shoe-shelf (the two places where wayward items collect) are precariously piled with random things. There is unidentifiable food smooshed into the carpet, begging for the vacuum. I'm losing precious days in planting carrots. My socks are sticking to the kitchen floor. I have even started tossing things onto my bedroom floor, which is my ultimate pet peave. That is really what tipped me off, because I always like my bedroom neat and tidy - it provides an oasis I can retreat to when the rest of the house is in shambles. We've lost several toys this week to foot-stepping. The dishes pile up all day. I haven't done my Monday deep-clean in a few weeks. There are fingerprints and saliva marks on the windows. You can barely walk in the basement.
The rhythm of life is a funny thing. I think each day, each week has its own rhythm. I also think each of us has our own rhythm. There are periods when things go just as you plan, and periods when it falls apart. There are times of optimism and happiness, there are times of melancholy and inactivity. There are moments when your to-do list continuously shrinks, and there are days when there isn't an end to it. Right now I'm mostly frustrated that this time of unproductive-ness is during the fabulous weather we're experiencing. The sun and warmth are usually so motivating in my life, I feel disheartened to waste such days. But the rhythm will soon alter, the cycle moves on. No one system can work forever. Life is about change and adaptation.