the Kitchen Sink

I don't know what I am more upset about. The fact that my husband left, or that I cannot tidy my kitchen.
I think its the later, My kitchen. In fact I know its the later. My kitchen is shocking. For the daughter of a Doe School Girl from Aberdeen. .. that is the ultimate insult to my mother. There is no one else around who cares. Truely I don't care. I just feel like I am falling apart and this disintigration of domestic order is a perfect example of it. To the outside world it is all somehow working out. But inside the infastructure is dwindling.

As this weakness becomes apparent. I am aware that change is taking place. Deconstruction is the essential part of the opportunity of recreation.

Previous diatriabes will display that my wits are not exactly about me. I am at a befuddled bottleneck conclusion kinda place. Moving from opposing to revealing places. All helping me to understand how much energy is directed me in the wrong places. Lapping after a retreating shore. I have been distracted and chasing that which is destined to recoil from me. But the tides have halted, and the jib altered. I have followed this delta of influence for too long. A new destination is in sight.