Sunday morning, easy like

It is 7.27 Sunday morning. Sun is streaming through our east facing apartment. The toy car world Noo abandoned last night is casting long shadows across the expensive sisal I spend every day trying to protect from the hands, feet and mouth of the three year old who rules this place.

I heart Sunday mornings

As I look over my laptop and through the wide balcony doors I can see a trickle of traffic heading north and on to the Sydney Harbour Bridge. All is quiet, except for the sound of my overly long bright pink gelled nails tapping across the keyboard, thanks to some much needed and appreciated double glazed windows.

Noo is sound asleep in his little room he loves to call his own but of course we share. Tucked under his arm is his new best mate: Transformer. A black and white cat that has become the first plush toy to gain his love. It was a gift from a woman my mum has called friend since the 1960s. A woman who's generosity with little gifts I have known since I was a child.

As I sit here I contemplate what to tell you over my first cup of black Campos Superior Blend. The guilt I feel about the time between posts is incredible. But why am I feeling guilty? Who do I answer to? This is my blog. My project. My love. I have some wonderful readers that I know regularly check in but they are not turning on every morning only to be disappointed by the fact The Babbling Bandit hasn't babbled again.

The guilt lays with me. Each post that I write is done with love and pure enjoyment and when I don't blog I miss it. I admonish myself constantly for the time I spend staring at this screen; writing, creating, reading, absorbing, organising and collating. Or just staring. Dreaming. Ideas flowing in and out, around and about. So many ideas of subjects to write about. To explore. To personalise. But I don't produce enough output. That's where the admonishment comes in.

I want to learn and I want to connect. I become overwhelmed with excitement when I find an issue  that resonates with me and I want to explore it, dissect it, disseminate it with my fingerprints all over it. But then it slips out of my head and I'm lost again. Where was I? Why did I feel so good a minute ago? What was that flash of brilliance? Where's the rewind button?

The doctors say I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I got my second opinion last week that agreed with the first. The medication I take is helping but I could use a higher dose because my mind still wanders, my ideas still dart around, my vagueness still renders me mute for moments at a time.

I cannot tolerate the higher dose. If you've been reading here a while, you'll remember what happened when I attempted to take more of the methylphenidate or Concerta as is its brand name. The anxiety it causes is too much for me.

So I have had a week away from babblingbandit.me. I've not gone anywhere of course. My life rolls on whether I write about it or not. But despite my cocktail of medications I take every morning, despite my mood having benefited from me being almost completely sugar free, I've had an 'off' week. Off mood, off the computer. We all have them. And there's nothing wrong with that.

A new week begins. The sun is shining. We are heading to the Newtown Festival. Newtown: My spiritual home. Where I grew up. Where four generations of my family laid roots. Where so many memories of my past float around I can almost hear them speak to me. Near where my son was conceived and later born. More on Newtown another time.

Today life is good. Off and online.

What are you going to do on this beautiful Sunday? Even if the weather isn't good where you are?


V.

Disclaimer: Campos Coffee did not sponsor this post. Although, should they ever want to work with me, one of their most loyal and long standing customers, I'm available!