The kitchen faucet is singing today.
It’s a sort of Pluck. Pluck. Pluck. All day long, over and over. I tried stopping it, pushing down on the handle and forcing it to not waste all that water, even if the drips are three seconds apart.
But it keeps singing. I can’t seem to change it, no matter what I do.
So for now, I’m taking comfort in its company.
My eyes aren’t focusing. Dry contacts seem to plague me every day now. I wonder if people notice me blinking, trying to get those plastic discs to feel OK in my eyes, trying to get them to give me a clear picture of this world, like they’re supposed to.
I ran 3.5 miles this morning, I lifted some weights, I did some abs. I weighed myself. Satisfied.
Then I came home and gave in to the box on top of my microwave. Yes, day-old Jones Bros. vanilla cupcakes with frosting two inches high are just as good.
So much for any benefit of that workout.
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
I’ve been at my computer for what feels like hours. I’m contemplating going to a thrift store to look for wine glasses and a sewing machine. I’m telling myself that would be a waste of time.
I just applied for another job. It’d be not perfect but good. It’s in a beautiful part of the country and a step up career-wise. I talked to a media recruiter and to a friend who works in the same company. Both said they’d shoot the boss an e-mail.
My days are bleeding together. Yesterday, I spent a lot of time raking leaves. But I left them in two huge piles at the end of my yard. So I’m not done.
Today, my mind is all over the place. What to do next career-wise, who else I could e-mail to see if they know anything, other freelance opportunities … how my babies are doing at school, what housework I should be getting done, how to still feel useful … how much I love the rock-star boyfriend… what to do when the money runs out. How I wish for a nap.
My dad asked what he could do for me.
I don’t know is my answer.
But that faucet continues to run. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
And so will we.