So. First things first, right?

I walked in with an armload of groceries, on the phone with a friend who is getting her MFA. Since I promised to read her a short essay, I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pawed my computer out of my messy backpack. While I read my writing to her, I thought: “You don’t have time for this!” and then I thought: “Yes, you do. This is literally your dream, and you are not giving this time away.”

After reading the essay, I rushed upstairs, cluttered up the kitchen table with groceries, shoved the backpack in a closet, and greeted my 13-year-old dog. The moment she stretched her old body up and started towards me, I stopped thinking about anything else and said hello like this:

“Oh, it’s the love of my life! Hi Lou Lou! How was your day? Let’s take a walk. We’re having a party tonight, so we’re making it short. You are SUCH a good dog!” After I hugged her, I took her on a short, VERY slow old-dog walk. By the end, I felt my frustration and worry about the party come back, and hurried her along as best I could.

Instead of really cleaning, I threw clutter into my closet, shined up the bathroom sink, and carried on with cooking. (I thought delicious food might distract my guests from my current state of disarray.)