I’m listening to wind and fat drops of water land on dead leaves below my window. There are things that need to get done. Important things. The kind of things I don’t want to put off. Things, when left alone, scream, I just don’t have what it takes. Chances were shot yesterday when unexpected company arrived. This kind of company, this sort of person, is the dread that drives me. Yesterday, I failed. And all I can do now is sit, and wait. Eventually, wet tracks on hardwood will dry. The only sign that dog and woman ventured forth in this morning rain will evaporate. Then will I advance with the vacuum. I’ll finish what I couldn't do before. And I know, for all my concern, there will still be signs of my failings. As surely as the dog hair collects along the baseboards of my home, I know, as I write this today, there will be damp couch cushions in the shape of a dog. Need I say more? PS, I used to do this with my oldest children, late '80's early '90's. We'd sit in bed and go around in a circle, adding to a story. I'm 45 and live in Maine. I'm not working outside the home right now, and am using this time to foster my creative side, who shares a room with my inner child. My inner #@@$^ has had enough time to play. It's someone elses turn now!