Cleaning

The post holiday cleanup must be the worst and I look around now and don't know where to begin, so I will sit here for the moment until I do. I feel like I am ending up with it in my lap to take care of, feeling put-upon and that I'm the one who is responsible for all of the mess. This is what a woman will bear, that she creates all messes and she must then clean them all up, "No one judges me more harshly than I do, I caused a brilliant wreckage..."

Oh what a burdensome load to go it alone, and with it, a wonderful martyrdom cross to bear. Its exraordinarily attractive isn't it?

This is how it works: The world unwinding itself into chaos all the time. And the pieces that are swirling around in kind of a celebratory way, a universal keg party, and we will try to put something together from the leftovers that might make it practical for a short time, to create an order that will comfort this eternal hangover that we can't quite recover from.

But there is a certain... kindness here. In this mess I can construe that there seems to be a request for order, as if things want to have a place. The paper wants to be folded and recycled, the toys want to be played with and put in their place, the dishes wanting washed to be used again... And it all begins when it begins... but, until then, it waits for sense-making .... And further, I might be the guy for the job ~ Just the right one to make it make sense.

Although at the moment, I don't feel honored by this, just burdened.

It's a funny unreality to be presented with.