Treadmill Brain

Okay, it is now 10:05 and Ella has gone down for her morning nap. The morning nap is the singular time of day I have alone, second only to night time bedtime. When I lay her in her crib and shut her bedroom door, my mind begins to race, like this:

Check the clock. What time is it? Okay, it's 10:05, so that means I have until 11:30 or maybe, if I'm lucky, noon. I need to write a blog entry. I need to finish Ella's birthday invitations. I need to get my resume sent out to that photographer guy, even though he is in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere and I would have a huge commute time. Commuting sucks. And oh yeah, the car. The junkyard is coming to pick up the old car today. Oh god, I hope their loud truck doesn't wake Ella up.

Oh my god, what did I just step in? This kitchen floor is really gross. Are those smooshed bananas all over the place or just sticky dust bunnies? Why don't the dogs clean up the bananas anymore? Maybe they're not feeling well. They are due for shots and checkups, I need to call the vet. Call the vet. Maybe I should just clean the kitchen floor and quit thinking about it. But no, write! I want to write! And I have some emails to send. All I ever want to do is write!

Check the clock. Shit! It's 10:30 and I'm still thinking about what to do. Maybe I should go outside to smoke a cigarette. Clear my head. Get some things done because fuck! It's 10:35 already. And the dishwasher is still full. And is that me that stinks? I should take a shower, maybe shave my legs and paint my toenails. But if I don't take a shower, I'll get an extra 20 minutes and then maybe I could get that stuff listed on eBay?

And so on. They say new mothers get forgetful - I think they call it "mommy brain." In my own experience, I think it would be more appropriately coined "treadmill brain."

Round and round. And shit, look! Now its 11:00 and I hear Ella cooing herself awake. At least she wakes up happy. And at least I got to write a little bit.