it is the thing driving me in circles and filling up my brain, weighing on my shoulders. it is the flow out of pockets, and deep in the crevices of my bank account. i account for it with the pangs in my heart, but fears creep in and uncertainty rises to the surface. i am waiting for things to be better, for the world to look brighter, the days to be warmer. i am sick to death of snow. i am entirely too full of chocolate and it no longer comforts me. the wet winter and all this darkness is wearing on me. the children are tired and have been cooped up for too long now. they go crazy, scream and whine all day. they need freedom too. i want nothing more than to be comfortable and free from worry. i have done the necessary time, i am convinced of it. this has been enough and i am done with wringing my hands attempting to determine the appropriate course of action when so many may do, but none will be the entire solution. i attempt to visualize great rivers of money flowing at me, fleshing out my cheeks, rounding me and fulfilling the needs of the family. i imagine us free from worry - i see me smiling and contentedly going about my life, my general struggle with the atrocities of circumstance that i've unwillingly been a part of. i envision me walking down the street pulling the boys in the wagon. is it only warm air that i long for? is it simply summer that will fulfill my fantasies? every year, it seems, this happens. there is the long freak out and the creeping discontent with the way things are. i am a full bud, waiting. i am in need of the overspill, the pouring into spring, into sandal wearing and sleeveless dresses. i am chilled and my hands ache from all my fretting. it is high time i abandon the blankets, no longer need the layers to keep me calm and comfortable. i need ease and lightness. i wish only for freedom from anxiety. i want to stop this soulful weeping. this has gone on long enough.


in need of something new, i long for babies when i see babies, long for puppies when i hear talk of puppies, randomly pick up an application to run for the co-op board. the moment i think logically, however, i remember why i have no interest in puppies, why i have my fill of children, and why my time is all spent up and there's none left to be on a board. there is something churning in my belly though, flipping my eyes from here to there looking for something to long for. what is it that i need? what is it that i want? what is it that i can actually do? i don't even know how to approach the questions - clearly - let alone find the answers. what do i want? what do i want? i pick at the pretzels, imagine myself doodling the words, scrolling pen marks all about a page, searching in spirals and flowers and doodled stars and images of dna that i always draw for an answer, for the mystical revelation. where is it? in my skin? in this world, this life, this neighborhood and city? is there something to be done? some direction to be pointed in? should i plan out my whole life or merely change the colors of the walls? i was listening to the npr station today and this woman was giving a press conference, it seemed, about women and sports and all her volunteering and the things she's involved in - ending poverty and whatnot - and i thought how nice it might be to become really so involved in everything that i believe in so as to be on boards and make real change and go to africa to see the things that others do not see, to not just sob at news stories and choke up every time i read a fucking magazine. i thought how good it might be to dedicate a life to fighting poverty, to have the energy and the resources to actually do something like that. but i don't know how that works. clearly, this woman, and george clooney, who i spent the time in the fluido in occupational therapy reading about, have the sort of resources to be on the elton john aids board or to work the un security counsel about its approach to saving darfur. last week i thought that maybe instead of having a baby we could bring a sudanese refugee into our home just like in i heart huckabees, only without the bullshit christian crap and all the nonsense spewed down his/her throat about how great sprawl and capitalism are, but merely a job and a place to live and food to eat and friendship and honesty. or maybe that's a ridiculous idea because look at us - we have no money, no means to bring a refugee into our home. we have only photoshop and questions and endless student loan debt. i think all the ridiculous things, spark crazed notions while driving in the car, search the bottom of my glass of water for clarity in my personal life. what is it? what is this? is it spring? turning twenty-eight? the silence of my partner, the screaming of my children, the snot poured down their faces? is this a searching out of myself from desperation or boredom? is it anxiety about the summer, the endless months looming ahead with no income, the barren lands of debt and worry? is it a searching to escape the weight of all this worry, a way to immerse myself in something as means of distraction? why is it that i must ask the questions of myself? why is it that i cannot look into my head and see plainly where my fears and worries and desires come from? i was reading cunt and thinking of cuntfear and how women fight one another needlessly and realizing truthfully that every woman i judge has something that i fear in myself - naiveté, arrogance, denial, laziness, annoying hyperactivity. i can face myself and know this - why can i not peer into the pool of other thoughts and know their source? what is it that i am missing? what am i attempting to avoid in finding the answers? is this simply fraught with complexity? is there nothing there beyond an urge, a feeling? what is this? why the anxiety? why can i not overcome this by way of information and exploration? i cannot learn my way out of my emotional confusion. i imagine myself writing, whittling down and down to a solution, of sorts; to a plan at the very least. perhaps all that is in order is making a list. or maybe having a long conversation with my husband, seeing if he can shed any light at all on what is happening here. he did seem opposed to the child, puppy, and co-op board ideas, so i suppose those are out. painting the house is going to happen anyway. i've been purging in hopes to free myself of all the weight of my household, getting ready for spring and the task of the treasure map (the setting out of all desires for myself for the year in collage form). i am digging through my life in search for what i want. and i just do not know at all what it is.