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no more excuses
I keep thinking I should call, but then my stomach churns and I think, Later. When I figure out what to say. I keep walking into the kitchen and standing there for a while, staring thoughtfully at the mound of dishes in the sink and the general mess on the table and counter and floor, but my mind glazes over at the enormity of the task and I think, Later. When I know where to start and I know that I can finish. I keep resolving, No more excuses, but then I think, Later. After I have had a nap.
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about
"The mind of the thoroughly well informed [person] is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value."
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