“Then we will fight in the shade.”

New Years Day always feels like a do-over for me. It feels clean and fresh like I just brushed my teeth or cleaned my house, which incidentally I plan to do today. The former occurs no less than twice a day (not true), but the latter, sadly, doesn’t happen as often as it should.

. . .. .

I feel a nagging urge to write this morning. It’s not that I’m avoiding cleaning my house, it’s that I’m accomplishing a necessary task beforehand. A warm up, if you will. Yeah, call it what you wish, procrastination is not the intention.

.

“We are men of action. Lies do not become us.”

.

Sometimes movie characters say just the right things at just the right times in my head. Damn you, Pirate Roberts.

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I’m not one to quote The Princess Bride or The Meaning of Life (out loud). I’ve known people who are, and they annoy me. If you, Reader, are a member of that group, don’t be offended by my hypocritical remark. I quote Disney Pixar movies, or Mean Girls or Legally Blonde. I have daughters, and that’s my excuse, though I’ve no reason for excuses because the lines are funny as hell in the right context. 300 is chock full of witty comments. I like movies that have main characters who are underestimated underdogs, and 300 not only falls into that category but it’s also fine eye candy, so I forgive the cheesy Spartan one-liners and I use them in my head as silent comic relief when I feel attacked or overwhelmed. Which is often.

*-laundry break-*

I spent New Years Eve watching movies on Netflix from the comfort of my bed in the shield of darkness. I’ve avoided Jane Eyre, but I’m not sure why because I love movies that are set in 1800s England. I finally watched it last night, and it was scary. I didn’t expect to be frightened. I had an odd, uneasy feeling about watching the film or reading the book, and after watching it, my unease was validated. My reaction was an emotion I can’t explain, one I hadn’t unearthed. I think perhaps what I felt was a mixture of feelings, a potion of strong emotions that I’d never ingested. I went to sleep without analyzing my emotional response, and this morning I am haunted by the confusing impact that the story had on me.

I have written myself into a serious place, and I’ll trade that for cleaning my house. I suppose my need to write this morning has been a subconscious means of motivation.

I need to keep today light. Tomorrow I return to work, and an unwelcome heaviness accompanies me.

. .. .. . .

Down, down, down, she goes, and harder she resists the fall.

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Author: uncaged

When Picasso painted a blue Seated Woman in a Chair, he was unconsciously thinking of me.

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