Why Arizona

Once I decided not to go to Fargo for a book signing yesterday, a decision which was unnecessary in the end, I looked forward to a day at home puttering around. But I couldn't putter. I laid on the couch all day, not feeling like moving at all. The lethargy stretched into the evening. I barely could muster the energy to dress up and go out to fill the stove.

This morning, what a difference. I have been running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, getting ready for my imminent departure to Arizona.

The difference? Sunshine! I have an exaggerated response to sun, or the lack of it.

Now, if I had been able to get out and get busy yesterday, all would have been well. But with the phantom storm hanging over my head, I felt the need to stay home where nothing needed to be done. So, I did absolutely nothing.

Well, you see why I enjoy Arizona so much. Sunshine every day. Every day, the feeling of wanting to tackle the world, or whatever task might be in front of me.

A common dream I have at night is of getting ready to go somewhere but not being able to get my stuff together. I take a load out to the car, go in for another load of stuff, then forget where the car is, drop half the stuff, run back in for more, and on and on. There is too much stuff to fit in the suitcase. Piles of stuff.

That's how I feel all winter when I am here. Foggy in the head, forgetting something upstairs, marching up there and not remembering what it was I forgot, going downstairs again, then remembering.

The solution is to write lists. I should carry lists with me all the time, even when I go upstairs.

So, I have started my list for Arizona. I feel as if the cobwebs will clear from my head about the time I hit Omaha. But to get that far, I have to pack, which will have to be done amidst the cobwebs.