Do you ever have this happen?
I'm driving to work on a freezing cold January Sunday, listening to "A Prairie Home Companion" on NPR. The visiting musician, a female trumpeter is playing "Someone to Watch Over Me". I'm thinking about my life and this moment and watching people hustle through the cold. The sadness of the song makes me feel like I'm in a movie like Love Story. This makes me think of writing. I remember this thought I had last night when I was looking down at the address of a friend I had torn off the package she sent. It triggers the memory of this idea of a piece I want to write about homes and addresses, and I'm looking at the apartment buildings and brick row houses as I drive through the city. I desperately want to write, at that exact moment. I want to capture my feelings and thoughts. I make a mental note to make more time for writing. I think of all the lost pieces that have slipped through the sieve of my mind during a thousand commutes to and from work. And suddenly I'm struck with panic about how there's never enough time in my day, and I start going through my list of things to do and mentally prioritizing. But I'm tired and groggy and keep losing track of what order and feel more panicked. And I back track to think, "if I could just get more sleep this wouldn't be a problem." Then Maya pops into my head, the vision of her sleeping in her crib. I'm secretly blaming her for this problem. And I wonder if Marco is checking on her and remember that I wanted to tell my mom about how we moved her to her own bed. But I arrive at work and have to rush through the cold and set everything up and get lost in the business of my day. And once again, somewhere on the streets of Washington, DC another fantastic idea is spread out, letters bouncing down the asphalt, words streaming through the air, giving off steam in the cold. Maybe someone will capture them. Maybe they'll come back to me later.
I find it so hard to budget my day. I think that's the root cause of all my panic and restlessness and worry. Well, there's also the factor that my life is somewhat unstable and lacking in predictability. I crave a schedule. I desperately need one - down to the exact time I should be taking my damn birth control. Forgetting that is far more problematic than forgetting to write.