I’m Like a Sponge

In many ways, I absorb a lot whether it’s by reading, observation, listening, poking about where I don’t belong, osmosis, or my other superpowers.  Vividly recalling the memories I do is like watching a beloved rerun and losing myself in the memories of that time.

Of course, that means the brainsponge has limited capacity to absorb anything new.  So when I ask the Daughters what their plans are for that day and they shoot each other that look then I know I’ve forgotten something they just told me.  So I’m like a sponge that needs squeezing out, but who gets to decide what goes?

Initially I blogged because I wanted to become a better writer.  I have since learned that writing is too lonely and solitary a vocation for me.  It’s the same reaction when I was deciding if I would become a professional musician.  Practicing your instrument six hours a day and scrounging for other money-making resources is lonely work, and I’m the gregarious sort.  (Of course, I’m gregarious on my terms; I want my alone time too and woe to you if you don’t realize when that is and you don’t beat a hasty retreat.)  My focus then turned to recalling memories of my youth for my daughters, kind of a correspondence they can look back on with nostalgia and recall when their mom was just SUCH a hoot in her blog.

Now?  Now I’m just trying to figure it all out, where my next phase of identification of being is, and why the hell I can’t just accept where I am.  It’s like my Hubby watching TV, heaven forbid he watch just one thing, he’s got to flip to all the other channels to see if there’s something better there that he’s missing.  Am I supposed to be doing something differently now?  Is this the watershed moment when I’ll look back and say what an idiot I was, that I should have taken advantage and done such-and-so?  Who’s got these answers, anyway, because I want some.

I’m also like a sponge because it’s August and there’s sweat.

Aren’t you glad you’re reading this now?

People are so quick to judge.

People are so quick to judge.




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4 responses to “I’m Like a Sponge

  1. Any idea what is the underlying prompt for the ennui? Is it boredom? The desire to leave a legacy? Ruminations on the past? All of the above?

  2. Not boredom or ennui, I think it was a lack of closure. I think. While I am a sponge, I am sometimes a very slow sponge.

  3. That is some funny stuff! I laughed enough to hurt myself. Then I had to shake my head, because it is all true to me, as well. (Well, not the daughters thing or the husband thing, but the rest of it.) Thank you for sharing your wry sense of humor. You have brightened my night.

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