Semi-Daily Scribbles

The grandfather clock told Clementine she needed to set down the tablet, stash her phone in the sock drawer, and unplug from all her well-managed distractions. Though it was May, Clementine made a pact with herself at the beginning of the year to spend one hour a day in solitude. She'd yet to make good on her word. That was part of the problem. Just the word solitude made Clementine shudder. Being quiet didn't come easily. Being quiet with no one watching her be quiet seemed a wasted effort. Rhoda, Clementine's friend who worked in Accounts Receivable, suggested Clementine try meditation. Rhoda did not profess to be especially skilled in the practice, but her menstrual cramps were less severe, and she could read two chapters of a book before bed without falling asleep ever since she began to meditate on a daily basis. Rhoda thought it would help Clementine's twitchiness. As the long, harsh winter finally gave way to spring, Clementine decided the proper moment had arrived. She was going to quell the restlessness that made her a strong starter, but never carried her through to the finish. Too many stalled plans had become a very heavy chain to drag around from year to year. Clementine was also disappointed in the reflection that studied her each morning in the mirror. The woman on the other side of the glass had grown so old so quickly that her face had to be a trick of the light. Clementine feared she may have waited too long to polish and refine her undisciplined mind.