If I had three days of peace and quiet, three days where no one depended on me for sustenance or for making their dreams of reenacting Custer’s Last Stand come true, three days where I could do anything I wanted to do without disruption… I would clean off my desk.
I would rather clean my desk than go on an all-expenses-paid vacation to the islands — with my husband OR with my girlfriends. I would rather clean my desk than take a bath and get a haircut and a pedicure. I would rather clean my desk than sleep or ride my horse every day. I would rather clean my desk than go on an unlimited, guilt-free shopping spree at Cowtown Ag Supply. (Okay, I take that last one back.)
Because I seriously crave a clean desk. I crave quiet time to sit and draw conclusions from all the notes I’ve been jotting down for the last several months. When my desk is a tornado of bills and unfinished thoughts and receipts and messages, I get a little skittish. I can’t hear the voices in my head clearly. It becomes hard for me to remember in which direction the sun rises.
Cleaning my desk doesn’t seem to be something I can do in short spurts of time, like while the kids are watching a cartoon. I can blog during cartoons, but not clean. I’m the type who needs quality quiet concentration to sort through these important matters: review of the budget. Payment of the bills. Finalization of the staples-only monthly shopping list and the birthday party plans. Wrap-up of the 2015 ranch rodeo season. Preparation for the 2016 ranch rodeo season. Replying to emails from people who think I’ve forgotten them.
There is very little time in my life these days for such tasks. And so my thoughts just keep on going unfinished. And the pile on my desk just continues to grow. Sometimes the kids get into the pile on my desk and mess it up. Talk about something that’ll make your eyelid twitch.
Not that I’m trying to rush this stage of our life in Littles Town. I know they’ll be grown up before I know it, and then I’ll be a sad sack of a lonely old woman sitting at my desk for hours and hours because there’s nothing else going on, and I wouldn’t trade anything for being at home with them right now. And I don’t want to be without them for three days. I just want to complain. And dream of what I would do if I had three days all to myself.