A Conundrum - Interior Monologue for Sunday Writing Essential
Why on earth can’t I even give it a go?
The very thought of it gets my brain into a dizzy spin. I don’t really want to think about it. I’d much rather go for a walk. Talk to trees and birds in the trees and on telegraph poles.
But now that I’m asked by Doug to write an interior monologue, perhaps this exercise could serve as an incentive to devise a plan. A plan that might, just might work this time.
I’ve already read a self-help book. Great read. Laughed out loud. Found myself on every page. Did ten minutes of what the book advised. That was it, so I’m not going to read that book again. At least not from A to Z.
Anyway, I need to find MY way of doing this. Perhaps only thirty minutes every day. 'Every day’ is the key word. I’ll stick a reminder note on my bathroom mirror.
But where shall I start?
Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, wardrobe, cupboards, drawers, bookshelves, letters, postcards, Christmas cards, photos, old records and audio cassettes, birthday cards, ribbons, buttons of all sizes in various colours…one day I might need one just like this little pink one. I’m beginning to feel a heat rush around my ears, now climbing to my head... I'll make myself a nice cup of tea...
What about a professional organiser?
Yeah, not a bad idea. How much would it cost, I wonder? I probably couldn’t afford her. Besides, I wouldn’t really want anyone standing over me, forcing me to throw out my precious stuff, putting my heart through the shredder.
Am I then condemned to be found buried under piles of paper and stuff?
This is a serious matter. Just thinking about its enormity is twisting my gut into knots, for that’s where the brain is, in the gut, that’s what my doctor said and that’s why he put me on the gluten-free diet and gave me a tablet to take with every meal to properly digest all protein to keep my gut free of unwanted residue because that residue clouds the brain. Well, the fog in the brain has gone, but why can’t I get my head around this business of decluttering?
Stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff…everywhere I look.
I’m having a panic attack! Oh yes, it’s a panic attack all right. I can recognise the symptoms, I’ve had one before. I’m not scared, I know what to do: breathe in, hold your breath, count to eight, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, now breathe out counting to eight and repeat until relaxed.
Bingo! The little Pink Button! That’s exactly what I could tackle first, my sewing box – the microcosm of my home. Phew, I feel better now.
Tomorrow I’ll do the sewing box…for the third time!
© irina dimitric 2012 "rigorous critique wnated"
recommend
Facebook
Twitter
bookmark 
print
Comments: 34
I surely can identify with this monologue-been there done that and really need to do it again.!!!! It has only been 2 1/2 years since I mada a major move and left behind so much-I need to do that again. Blessing!
I know that a lot of people are in the same boat regarding clutter.
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Now featured.
Thanks for sharing with Gather's Luminous Writers and Artists. Now featured.
Thank you so much for the feature.
May I suggest investing in (or borrowing) Julia Cameron's 'The Right To Write' which is not the usual 'I can teach you to write ...' stuff. In fact, it's far from all those typical, cheap, instructive tomes for those who have begun their baby steps after their urge to write 'something'.
There are so many ways to write more than just a stream-of-conscousness' piece, which the 'Conundrum' tries to attempt. For example, longer sentences in the beginning would show a leisurely pace, thoughtful, reflective; shorter sentences bring out the tension, drama and passion; then there would be an accelleration of mood, showing a well planned and constructed piece.
Of course, the more you read, the more you will want to write well. You know the old saying, if you want to be successful, surround yourself with successful people; the same applies to writing, read the type of writing you would aspire to.
Sometimes, redrafting can make a difference to the writer's perspective of the piece. As a mature student, I once did 9 redrafts for an assignment for a uni course I did. it was, of course, in Creative Writing. I learnt to take my time, to be patient with my output, to write and leave it a couple of days and then, re-read, edit, cut, cut & paste; to redraft, with 'Draft 2' pasted above Draft 1' so I could chop and change as I liked.
An essential, always keep a notebook. On may occasions, my quickly scribbled notes have become a 2,000 word story, a poem, a play.
Anything is possible.
Carol and I live in the 4000 sf house we raised our 3 girls in, now it's just us, and we're overwhelmed with stuff. We've tackled it a pile at a time, not trying to do everything at once. it's been 2-2 1/2 years. We're still overwhelmed, but Carol's office and closet have gotten moved upstairs and we've had a renter in the downstairs for a year now. Be patient with yourself.
This feels too personal to criticize as literature. It's honest, rich in detail, heartfult, and well written. I enjoyed it and related to it. Thanks for sharing with us.
I'm very happy you enjoyed my interior monologue and thrilled you think it's well written.