I hold the key?

I'm getting mentally cluttered. With classes being canceled and rainy days following one after another, I've got too much free time. I never got a handle on free time growing up in Northern Virginia. It was go to exhaustion, collapse, recover, repeat. So, copious free time tends to make me nervous. I get odd habits to pass the hours. I get small anxieties about missing out on life, on wasting perfectly good moments of productivity. And so with all the mental clutter, it's been harder than usual to see life for what it is. Or rather, its been harder to let the light in. I feel like I'm in the basement, scouting through old boxes of Katie and her memories, revisiting old neuroses, wondering about moments that almost happened, thinking about what will happen when I get back and spending an inordinate amount of time avoiding Malaga. I wish I were busier, then the whir of my ticking brain would clear out some of these dust bunnies and I might feel a bit lighter. But every writer (everyone) can understand the block.

It's not the block that bothers me...it's that I put it there.

Around it? Over it? Under it?

Through it?...maybe that's best. Work through it. Let the dust clear so I can breathe again.

And be in Malaga. Not trapped in Malaga and my mental prison.