It was the summer of 1988. I was 12 and had purchased the original Nintendo with money I earned on my paper route.
Every day that summer, I played The Legend of Zelda (again, the original one!) until my mother would stand in the kitchen doorway and throw a wooden spoon through the dining room and into the living room, yelling, “If I have to listen to that music for one more minute, I’m going to go crazy!” Then I would be forced outside to play with my brother and the neighborhood kids until dinner time.
I never understood why the music bothered her. I’d turn it down, but, hey, I needed the music to play. It was part of the whole experience.
My son is obsessed with Lego Batman the video game. I listen to the Batman theme song music over and over again all week long.
I wish I had a wooden spoon.
It’s been months now that I’ve been plagued with restlessness. I still haven’t found something to quiet it. I have all these things I want to get done, yet no desire to actually do the physical work.
I love to cook, but right now I dread cooking.
I love to write, but right now I dread writing. I’m forcing myself to write this blog post because if I was writing every time I was thinking about writing, I’d have written 100 novels by now. I have to start somewhere and all of you get to come along for the ride.
I love to read and yet I haven’t felt the desire to pick up a book. I even stopped reading partway through a book by one of my favorite authors because I just couldn’t get into it. What?! I’d been waiting 4 years for the book to come out, have been reading the series since 2003, and I struggled for 3 weeks to read 160 pages. Then I gave up and returned it to the library.
I bought some new CDs with birthday money I’d been hoarding since October. I think it’s been more than a year since I bought a CD. The only time I’ve listened to them is when I’ve been in the car with the kids.
Art projects are lining themselves up on my craft table (which is just a folding table I’ve set up in my office so I have a surface where I can leave unfinished projects). Scrapbooking, sewing, jewelry. I’ve scribbled some notes about book ideas in my journal. I’ve pulled a bunch of clutter off my bookshelves and started boxing things up with the crazy idea that I’m going to refinish my bedroom furniture, shelves included. I even have plans to build my own bed with some unwanted wood a friend has in her backyard.
Not one project has been finished.
I’m contemplating ripping out the carpeting in my living room and attempting to lay down laminate wood floors. Someone, please talk me out of it!