Stuck Inside

Hello world!

Unless you've been living under a cactus, you know it's hurricane time.  We're all stocked up on canned food and batteries.  I wiped down all of our porch furniture and brought it inside.  All of our laptops, cell phones, iPods, and tablets are plugged into surge protectors and fully charged.  I've bothered to scour every single concerned e-mail from my desert-dweller mother for survival tips.  My fiancé even bought an 'emergency pumpkin' to carve in case of extreme boredom. 

So far so good, except I hate being stuck inside; I get major cabin fever.

I've been thinking about why I get so antsy when stuck in the house.  Maybe it just reminds me of times when I was so depressed that getting out of bed was a nearly insurmountable task.  Maybe I'm getting used to this no-isolation policy.  Those would be good things.  But I think I get uncomfortable because I allow myself to spend way too much time stuck in my head when I'm alone in the house.

My head is a war zone. 

My sponsor always says she needs her thinking supervised.  I definitely identify; being alone with my thoughts is dangerous.  If one could earn a couple bucks by creating crises, I'd literally be a pro.  When left festering in my mind, an insignificant error makes me a mistake, a tiny disagreement makes me a pathetic failure, and a momentary embarrassment makes my entire existence a shameful skidmark on society's underpants. Sick and suffering indeed!

So I'm doing stuff.  I cooked breakfast, did loads of laundry, cleaned the bathroom a bit, took out the recycling before the rain really started, and even dusted off the ukulele.

After all, there's nothing quite like actually doing stuff to make me not feel useless.

Until next time!