Determined to sit in front
of my computer today
until I’ve waded through
the string of unattended emails
that populate my inbox.
Guilt at not attending
yet another yoga class
eliminated by the click of a mouse.
Musing that a daily (almost)
beach walk is a good substitute.
Shaking my head at the emails
reminding me that I really have been
out of college for fifty years,
and that a reunion looms.
Drywall guy busy sawing below.
Carving a longer and wider opening
in our battle scarred kitchen ceiling.
Making way for the plumbers
who will replace the pipes.
And the sawing goes on and on.
How big will that opening be?
And the cat howls. Who knows why.
And the message signal beeps on my phone.
And numbers that indicate contact
pop up on Facebook’s icon. But no.
Today is a pajama-clad, tousled hair,
second cup of coffee, staying in my upstair’s office,
Frank dealing with the drywall guy, kind of morning.
Sawing has stopped; vacuuming has begun.
Insidious is drywall dust. Creeps into crevices.
Avoidance my current mantra. Back to responding to emails.