The boys are baking brown bread.
I’m staring at this:
…and I know it’s not everything. Four moves in one year has dispersed much of my paperwork throughout countless hastily packed boxes. I tried my best to keep it all accessible, but there were times when it just was not the priority. I’m sure in a few months (she says hopefully) when we really truly really unpack our things again, I will find a pile or two of receipts I could have written off, but oh, well. It’s not as if the government gives a fig if I short-change myself.
I should just get on it, get it over with and move on.
But I’m just so easily distracted.
There are things to finish and photograph and list and make and do and and worry about and there is a small person gleefully licking batter off a spatula to my left, the sun peeking through the clouds to my right…all signs pointing to the fact that there are better things to do with my day than sigh heavily at this stack of papers.
I will shrug it off to go play for a while, but I will dwell on the fact that there are pieces of paper hiding out amongst the rest of our things in boxes. Like our dishes. Those receipts are hanging out with the dishes and I want to unpack them. I miss the sound of them, the weight of them and the comfort in simply knowing where they are. You can replace “dishes” with any number of things one has in their home that makes it cozy and undeniably theirs.
This time next year, I will be taking my neat files out of the filing cabinet, where they have been sitting in the same place for many months, quietly accepting deposits. Everything will be right where I need it. I will be home.
I don’t have much to complain about then, do I?