Fretfulness, thy name is me
Jun. 28th, 2011 05:34 pmSweeping the kitchen floor is perhaps not the most imperative of tasks, to a man who has a copy-edit due back in a day and a half. When he hasn't yet read through a quarter of it.
But Karen had more medical tests today, and is currently sleeping off the after-effects on her favourite recliner in the next room. I am playing my usual game of I-hate-responsibility, getting anxious every time she stops snoring, going through to make sure she's still actually, y'know, breathing. Wondering how long I should let her sleep undisturbed (it's been over three hours; that's not a nap; she'll never sleep tonight if I don't wake her soon. Etc, etc). And of course trying to displace worry about the tests themselves. Hence, the kitchen floor. Copy-edits frankly take a back seat against more urgent displacement activities. Unless worrying about Karen is itself a displacement activity...?
But Karen had more medical tests today, and is currently sleeping off the after-effects on her favourite recliner in the next room. I am playing my usual game of I-hate-responsibility, getting anxious every time she stops snoring, going through to make sure she's still actually, y'know, breathing. Wondering how long I should let her sleep undisturbed (it's been over three hours; that's not a nap; she'll never sleep tonight if I don't wake her soon. Etc, etc). And of course trying to displace worry about the tests themselves. Hence, the kitchen floor. Copy-edits frankly take a back seat against more urgent displacement activities. Unless worrying about Karen is itself a displacement activity...?