343. To Hell With Psychologists

Packed the borrowed car and went back to our own apartment in the City to do a few things, including 4 hours of washing clothes in the industrial machines that inhabit our basement – a bit like Bj√∂rk’s cars in The Modern Things. I’m sure both were here when the dinosaurs roamed the Earth …

But seriously, it was a fine day and sunshine when we drove back on the freeway and Jay was in good spirits. Then of course the rest of the day was crazy with laundry, but necessary since my mother and father will come over tomorrow and we need to do it anyway or we shall surely drown in socks and bras and baby clothes with puke on them.

Well … I am not sure when the right time will be to do a little of that writing I have been talking about recently – again. Maybe I should rather reflect on how psychologists who read this in 50 years time will have a ball trying to figure my head out, due to all my wavering and vacillation when it comes to choosing and prioritizing creative projects, and then over-analyzing myself and freezing before I even get started.

Or maybe I will just start some time, when I have to force myself to use half an hour here or 15 minutes there, when I’d rather sleep and rest, and then post the result tomorrow.

I think I shall.

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